


Cheongju School for Troubled Youths

by licensetokill



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Boarding School AU, Drugs, EXTREMELY self-indulgent, HELL YEAH GET READY FOR SOME JEONGCHEOL THOUGH, Heavily based on Bare: A Pop Opera, High School AU, How Do I Tag, I've never done this before, M/M, Sexual Coercion, Uh I'm getting dead poets society x bare a pop opera vibes or atleast I'm trying to channel them, Underage Drinking, but darker, sex but not super graphic, starts off relatively light and slow and then by chapter 3 things really kick into motion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/licensetokill/pseuds/licensetokill
Summary: Seventeen in a catholic boarding school with strict rules on religion, sexuality, drugs, curfew, and more. And they manage to break every single one of them.An insight into the best, and alternatively, worst year of their teenage lives.





	1. Jeon Wonwoo is Not A Bokjumeoni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junhui is attractive and Wonwoo is captivated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some background information so things don't get too confusing...
> 
> Seniors: Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Jisoo  
> Juniors: Junhui, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Jihoon  
> Sophomores: Dokyeom, Mingyu, Minghao  
> Freshmen: Seungkwan, Vernon, Chan
> 
> Dorms: (Upperclassmen get 2 to a room)  
> Seungcheol and Jeonghan  
> Jisoo and (another senior)  
> Junhui and Soonyoung  
> Wonwoo and Jihoon  
> Dokyeom, Mingyu, and Minghao  
> Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan
> 
> IF YOU'RE READING ON YOUR PHONE, SLIDE TO SEE THE THREE PICTURES!! (They connect to each chapter) They really only make sense once you finish reading though.

 

From outside the sprawling three-story stone premises of the elite Cheongju boarding school for boys, nearly all the lights were out in every bedroom window. But illuminated in the dead of night were two faces pressed up against the window pane of a single, brightly-lit room on the third level. Their hot breaths fogged up the inside of the glass as they traced hearts and watched the snow outside pound harder, waiting for Wen Junhui and Kim Mingyu to come back.

“It’s almost 11:30.”

“They’ll never make it back by curfew.”

“Oh, those two are definitely getting caught tonight, and so are you two if you don’t get the hell out of the junior-senior level and back down to the freshmen dorm.” Jeon Wonwoo scoffed behind them, but not without a hint of affection, pulling the two freshmen back from where they leaned against the window and pushing them in the direction of the dorm exit.

Boo Seungkwan whined in protest as Wonwoo pushed them toward the door frame, but his and Chwe Hansol’s struggling did nothing against Wonwoo. The two little 15-year-olds had nothing on the junior.

Seungkwan and Hansol may have been a lot younger and more immature than Wonwoo, but it was customary for his friends to “adopt” several new kids into their selective group every year. Their group had grown into a family over the last four years, and nobody really knew what was going to happen at the end of the term when their oldest, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo, graduated. It seemed as if the seniors were the backbone of their group, and without them, the entire body would collapse. They were the ones who had found Wonwoo during their sophomore year, the three he had looked up to his whole high school career. Well, maybe not exactly looked up to, but at least depended on. And although nobody liked to address Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo leaving, it was on everyone’s minds. You could definitely tell the three of them knew it too, after their senioritis started to kick in and they started to push the boundaries of the rules. 

Wonwoo remembered Jeonghan’s words from months back, declaring that this year was going to be “the best one yet,” which only meant some serious mayhem was in store. Seungcheol just laughed and agreed, though he was the slightly more moral of the two. Jisoo remained quiet, always the one to say nothing instead of raise objections. He had been the one who stood on the sidelines and watched as the rest got caught for their ridiculous acts over the years. The only times he got into trouble was when Jeonghan would teasingly call him a prude and then drag him into his schemes. 

Wonwoo just tried to detach himself from all of it, because screwing around meant serious drama, and drama only meant falling behind in his classes, which was the last thing he needed. Years ago he had failed his entire school year out of sheer laziness and extreme truancy. His parents threatened that if he didn’t get his act together, he could have a fun time saving up for college on his own. That was when they sent him to Cheongju School for Troubled Youths, a reform school. They were all in there for one thing or another, though their reasons for being sent there ranged in severity. It was mostly for things like substance abuse, or flat out drinking alcohol or doing drugs at all, fighting, or being gay. Their highly affluent, highly influential, highly conservative parents would be seen as disgraces if anyone found out their pristine children were anything less than perfect (or their standard of perfect, in any case), so Cheongju was the answer. Although sending your gay son to an all-boys boarding school didn’t seem like the best solution to Wonwoo in his opinion, or at least judging by some of his friends. 

Jihoon just closed his eyes and shook his head at the thought of Junhui and Mingyu. “It’s only second quarter and Jun has already managed to corrupt another poor underclassman…” God bless Mingyu, Jihoon thought. He was only a sophomore, and he couldn’t help but worry about what Junhui was dragging him into. That boy knew how to have too much of a good time, and it wasn’t unusual for Junhui to go out several nights a week to the nearby university’s frat parties. And somehow, he’d never once managed to get caught. Maybe it was why he and Jeonghan-hyung got along so well. Those two were as thick as thieves. 

“Wait!” Seungkwan exclaimed, pointing out the window and Vernon rushed back over to see. Three stories below, in the flurry of white, they could make out Junhui and Mingyu. Junhui could hardly be considered walking, he was more like clinging onto Mingyu and tripping in the heavy snow every five steps. Mingyu squinted his eyes in concentration to find the boys’ window and exaggeratedly waved when he spotted them, clearly not being completely sober either.

“I can’t believe we do this for them,” mumbled Wonwoo, opening the latch on the window and struggling to lift the heavy glass up while cold wind and snow immediately rushed into the room. He quickly grabbed the rope ladder hidden under his mattress and threw it down to the bottom level. The administrators would practically kill any student out past curfew, and no one could make it through the main gates without being caught by Sister Taeyeon. In his sophomore year, Jeonghan started the idea of climbing up and down a rope ladder from their dorm windows to get in and out of the school. Needless to say, climbing up and down three stories on a barely held together ladder was not safe by any means, but safety was the last thing on their minds. The long trail of footsteps leading to the school walls clearly exposed Junhui and Mingyu’s path, but thankfully the snow was still pouring down hard enough that it would probably cover up their tracks soon. 

Junhui just looked up and laughed. “Wonwoo-yah, Wonwoo-yah, let down your hair!” Jun was clearly not sober enough to climb up the flimsy ladder. Despite having had years of practice, Wonwoo still felt panic in his chest as the ladder fumbled in the strong wind and Junhui ungraciously staggered and managed to grab one of the wooden bars. Junhui looked up and flashed Wonwoo one of his sly smirks that still managed to be hot despite Junhui being drunk out of his mind. Wonwoo rolled his eyes and motioned for them to come up. Mingyu stood behind Junhui, placing Junhui’s hands on each side side of the rope and placing his own hands on Junhui’s waist to stabilize him as he started to climb. Wonwoo would be lying if he said Mingyu’s hands on Junhui’s waist didn’t affect him, even though he was trying to prevent Junhui from accidentally falling to his death. Junhui slowly began to make his descent upwards with a wide grin, taking one shaky step at a time. 

By the time Junhui had reached the second level, his left foot suddenly lost footing on the next rung and Seungkwan let out a gasp, face as white as the snow as he peered down below. Even Jihoon got up from his bed when Seungkwan gasped to look out the window in concern. “I’m okay!” Junhui giggled mischievously and continued climbing up, finally reaching Wonwoo, who was able to hoist Junhui through the window and into their now freezing dorm. Mingyu began to follow suit, though his climbing was a lot steadier than Junhui’s.

Junhui looked completely and utterly fucked, to say the least. Besides his revealing outfit which clearly violated the school dress code (where did he even _get_ those tight leather pants?), Wonwoo could see the haze in his eyes, which were smeared at the sides with smudged eyeshadow, and the tips of his red ears peeked out between his ruffled chestnut hair. “Ah, my Rapunzel has saved me!” proclaimed Jun, throwing himself onto Wonwoo and burying his head in his shoulder. Wonwoo could smell the vodka on his breath and the weed that stuck to his clothes, and despised him for it. Jun was so careless. Yet he couldn’t help catching his breath when Jun looked into his face and let out a cute little pout. “What would I ever do without you Wonwoo-yah?”

Wonwoo just held onto him tightly and looked up to the ceiling. _God, why did you have to do this to me?_ , he thought.

Finally Mingyu came clambering through the window, saving Wonwoo from verbally acknowledging Junhui’s drunken comment. It was a surprise that he could fit his entire 6’1” self through the frame. He stood in front of the window, looking awkward and out of place due to his tall height, shivering with his arms hugging his chest and wearing too little clothing to be warm.

With Junhui wrapped around him, humming contently with his mind probably drifting off due to exhaustion and numerous substances, Wonwoo had no ounce of sympathy for Mingyu. “How could you let him get so fucking wasted?” he spat. “You think you could really take care of him all by yourself without someone taking advantage of him or you guys getting caught? Babo.”

“Wonwoo-” Jihoon interrupted.

Mingyu looked like a lost puppy, head down as if being scolded by his mother. “I’m sorry I-”

Jihoon knew Wonwoo was being unfair to Mingyu due to the circumstances. He wasn’t an idiot. It was obvious by how tightly Wonwoo held onto a dazed Junhui how fiercely protective (and in love? in lust?) he was. “Mingyu,” he spoke softly, “just go with Seungkwan and Hansol to bed. Don’t worry about tonight.”

Mingyu just sighed and begrudgingly trudged off alongside Hansol and Seungkwan, who had fallen quiet. “C’mon hyung, you’re freezing,” said Seungkwan, wrapping his own jacket around Mingyu.

“Goodnight hyungs,” Hansol whispered, before they left to sneak back downstairs.

“Goodnight!” beamed Junhui, his over-excitement not matching the tension in the room. Wonwoo rolled his eyes in response. 

Jihoon laid back down and rolled over to face the wall. _Ah, these kids._

 

\----------

 

“Arms up.”

Junhui obeyed so that Wonwoo was able to pull the sweat soaked, weed-smelling top that clung to Jun’s skin off his head. After Wonwoo had started to draw the bath, he’d had placed him on his and Jihoon’s bathroom counter so he could take off Junhui’s clothes easily and get him in the tub. Take off his clothes? God, that sounds so awful out of context. But he swore it was only for good purposes. If Junhui walked back to his dorm like _that_ , one of the Sisters or stuck up prefects would smell him from a mile away. He swore they were like bloodhounds or something. 

Next were the shoes. There was something so oddly intimate about having to untie the double-knotted bows, individually loosen up the laces through each hole, and carefully pull off Junhui’s Doc Martens, soles sticky from dancing on a beer-stained floor. It felt almost as if he was taking care of a child. Maybe it was because there was only a few situations in life where someone would ever take off another’s shoes, of all things. A parent and their young child. A friend helping out his ridiculously drunk friend. Two people right before sex. It was hard to control his train of thoughts while undressing one of his best friends, as immoral as it was. They were best friends, they had gone through everything together. All nighters before finals. Getting in trouble in class. Confessing secrets alone late into the night. He wished he could confess this secret. Though as much as he appreciated this moment, he could have gone without taking off Junhui’s nasty socks. 

“Okay, now you’ve got to stand up Jun.” Junhui just smiled and placed his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders, which burned at the touch. He leaned against the counter and Wonwoo tried everything possible to look everywhere in his tiny bathroom other than Junhui’s half-naked body. He wasn’t looking at the smooth tan skin. He totally wasn’t looking at how defined that smooth tan skin was or the lines in his hips that traced down to his-

“Oh Wonwoo,” he slurred, “if you had wanted to see me naked you could have just asked!” He giggled and poked at the blush on Wonwoo’s cheeks with a crooked smile. Wonwoo could smell the strong alcohol radiating off his breath as his face moved closer. Without instruction, Junhui immediately began unzipping his jeans and stripping off all the rest of his clothes. 

“No, you’re definitely way too drunk.” Wonwoo continued to look everywhere _but_ at Wen Junhui and eventually guided him into the tub. He sat on the toilet lid while he turned the shower knobs to adjust the water to the perfect temperature. Junhui immediately held onto his nose and slid down so that his face was submerged and he could blow bubbles underwater. This really was like taking care of a child. He was afraid if he turned around for one moment, Junhui would end up like one of those young kids that drown in two-inch water like you see in the morbid instructional babysitting certification videos. “Hold on, let me get a towel. And please don’t drown.”

He ran back out to their closet and grabbed a towel from the shelf, but not before he heard Jihoon mutter, “You’re so whipped, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Shut up.” He quickly walked back into the bathroom and began to pour shampoo and rub it through Junhui’s hair, his chestnut locks foaming into lavender bubbles. His fingers slid through the dark tresses meticulously, paying attention to behind the ears, above the back of the neck, throughout the hairline. Junhui leaned into the touch and it was distracting. He wanted to crawl into the bath with him and enjoy the feeling of his soft skin and hair under gentle fingers. But he had to remind himself that Junhui was just drunk. Junhui was a flirt to literally anyone and everyone, he wasn’t special. And that flirtatiousness just increased when he was under the influence. After a moment of silence while Wonwoo focused on getting the suds out of Junhui’s hair, Junhui carefully examined the creases in Wonwoo’s forehead as he intently concentrated. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Wonwoo looked down at Junhui’s makeup-streaked face and gave a little smile. “You’re welcome.”

After Wonwoo was able to remove as much of the makeup off Junhui’s eyes as he could, careful not to get any soap in his eyes, he continued to soap down the rest of him. Once he was finally done ridding Jun of the disgusting remnants of his partying, he wrapped him in the soft towel and let him sit on his bed while he pulled clothes out of his drawer for him. Thankfully they were about the same size, so his clothes would probably fit on him. But by the time he turned around, Junhui was knocked out on Wonwoo’s bed, snuggled up in the towel and Wonwoo’s blankets. He sighed. Junhui’s face looked so peaceful, eyelashes fluttering slightly and lips barely parted. Wonwoo much rather preferred Junhui’s face his way. He didn’t need the dark eye makeup to look perfect. He considered waking him up and getting him into some warm clothes, but there was absolutely no chance in moving him; he was out like a light. In the end, Wonwoo just gave up and crawled in bed with him. He could deal with the consequences later.

 

\----------

 

Undulating rings and dewy morning sunshine filtered through the room, rousing Wonwoo and Junhui from their sleep. A chorus of old church bells rang from the South tower every morning at 8:30 sharp, beginning the daily schedule for the entire student body. The booming bells could be heard from every room in the school, and they were virtually impossible to sleep through (unless you were Yoon Jeonghan). Wonwoo was the first to open his eyes and saw Junhui’s long limbs draped all over top of him, towel dangerously and barely still wrapped around his lower half. When Wonwoo turned his head to see the other side of the room, Jihoon’s bed was empty. Not surprising. That boy always got up at the crack of dawn to be productive and work on his latest songs, being heavily involved in the music department. He didn’t even want to think about what Jihoon thought about the sight of them this morning when he had woken up.

He looked back over at Junhui, who was stretching out like a cat, lean muscles flexing in the strips of sunshine peeking through the window blinds. The sun lit up his golden honey skin and revealed his long lashes clumped together, evidence of the eye makeup Wonwoo had done his best to remove the night before. He contemplated how he’d deal with this. Jesus, he wished he could just throw away all his responsibilities and they could stay like this forever. His muscles screamed to stay in place. With Jun strewn across him like tons of dead weight, it was impossible to get up anyway. But if he didn’t get Junhui up soon, they wouldn’t make it down to the food hall for head count and would have to face one of the administrators’ wrath. 

“Jun,” he whispered, shaking his shoulder and causing Junhui to murmur protests into the sheets. “C’mon, you’ve got to get up.” Eventually Junhui lifted his head up from the bed and looked around the room, brows drawn tight in momentary confusion.

“Did I-”

Of course. He probably barely remembered what happened last night. He tried to grab the twinge of selfishness swimming around in his chest and shove it down to the deepest part of him so it would never see the light. He was constantly repressing his true thoughts and feelings around Junhui, so much that one day he might be left with nothing else. He feared one day he’d be so overwhelmed that he’d finally just throw up all of his true emotions right in front of Junhui. This morning was all the more reason for Wonwoo to completely shut off his stupid feelings that would never come true like he daydreamt in his head. “You came back pretty drunk and I tried to help you but I couldn’t get you back to your and Soonyoung’s dorm so I swear it’s not what it looks-”

Junhui lifted his finger against Wonwoo’s lips and cut him off, smiling. “Stop rambling silly. Thank you for taking care of me.” He threw his arms around Wonwoo, who relished in the warmth of the hug, warmer than the morning sun shining down on them.

Wonwoo tried to hide the internal blush from appearing on his features. “It’s what friends do, right?”

“Of course,” he said. “Now, do you have any clothes? Honestly, I’d have no problem strutting down the hall like this, but I’m afraid Sister Chaewon or Jisoo-hyung would have a stroke and then I’d really be caught.” He smirked, jumping up from the bed and pulling open Wonwoo’s drawers. “Looks like we’ve got the options… Ugly school uniform number one… Identical ugly school uniform number two… And identical ugly school uniform number three!”

“They really need to buy us new ones,” Wonwoo grumbled. It was true. Almost every student opposed their plaid red uniforms. The woolen material of their winter uniforms quickly grew scratchy despite wearing dress shirts underneath. Plus, he had to listen to complaints daily. But he didn’t have very many other clothes besides his uniforms, because he hardly ever went out on the weekends or left campus. He remembered what Junhui had shown up in the night before and scoffed. “I’m sorry I don’t have club outfits hidden in the back of my dresser.”

Junhui rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Getting Wonwoo to loosen up was useless. (He’d been trying for years.) “Oh, live a little Wonwoo! Why don’t you ever go to any parties? You’ve got to escape from this hell hole sometimes, somehow.” 

“It’s called books. That’s a _healthy_ outlet for escapism.” 

“And partying isn’t? Dancing and letting loose is a perfect form of escapism.”

“Oh, ‘letting loose’? Did you know the South Korean alcohol consumption epidemic is-”

“Tell that to Choi Seungcheol, not me! That hyung can drink anyone under the table! Remember when he and Jeonghan had that contest?” Junhui shuddered but couldn’t help but laugh. “That was kinda scary.”

Wonwoo’s mind flashed back to last year when someone had snuck a full bottle of Bacardi into one of their rooms. It all started when Seungcheol made a teasing comment to Jeonghan about his drinking abilities, and then it was on. Jeonghan was never one to back down from a challenge, and that night ended up with all of them crowded inside Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s dorm. Some of the others had gone so far as to even make bets on who would win. Soonyoung sat behind Seungcheol while Junhui sat next to Jeonghan. Those two had $150 and a week of doing each other’s laundry riding on this. They knew neither one of their hyungs would ever back down, and you could prove it by seeing the fierce glint in Jeonghan’s eyes and the crooked smirk in Seungcheol’s confident face. The group sat huddled in amazement as the two eldest kept throwing back shots like it was nothing. When Jeonghan was clearly unable to go on, Seungcheol took a final shot and won. They only found out until later that Junhui had taken some of Jeonghan’s shots for him. Jeonghan could definitely hold his liquor, but he wasn’t close to Seungcheol’s level. So even though Soonyoung won the bet, him and Junhui fought anyway over the fact that Jeonghan cheated. Looking back, it was hilarious, but at the time, he was scared shitless that his two hyungs would die a premature death from alcohol poisoning. “You’re right. I just worry.” He turned around while Junhui started pulling on one of Wonwoo’s uniforms.

“These polos are so itchy. And completely unflattering and unfashionable. I should complain.”

“Do it.” Although Wonwoo thought Junhui looked good no matter what, ugly uniform be damned. He quickly pulled on his own uniform and brushed out the mat of hair on his head, satisfied. Then they were off to the Food Hall with ten minutes to spare.

The students at Cheongju could spot their group from miles away. They always sat at the end of the furthest dining table that stretched down the entire hall. This year they took up two entire sections. They weren’t exactly the “it” table, but many people knew them due to Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Junhui, and Jihoon’s popularity and either admired or despised them. Wonwoo and Junhui could spot Jihoon, Jisoo, Dino, Dokyeom, Mingyu, Minghao, Seungkwan, and Vernon already sitting down and most of them were laughing hysterically at some impression Dokyeom was doing.

Jihoon was the first to notice them walking up from his side of the table. He flashed Wonwoo an accusing smirk and subtly shook his head. Wonwoo opened his mouth to let out a frustrated retort but restrained himself from saying anything about it while in front of Junhui. 

“Hyung! I got you some of your favorite coffee before they ran out!” called Minghao when he spotted Junhui. Junhui broke into a wide smile at his favorite dongsaeng and took the spot next to Minghao. He thanked him, since he didn’t know what he would do without some coffee to help subside the throbbing hangover that was starting to kick in. Wonwoo took a seat next to him, reaching for some of the still warm pancakes in the middle of their table. Mingyu sat all the way across and down the table from them, not even glancing at Wonwoo. His sulky pout made Wonwoo feel a little bad for yelling at him the night before. 

“Where are Jeonghan and Seungcheol?” Junhui pointed out, the seats across the table empty. 

“You know Jeonghan, probably sleeping in like the dead,” joked Seungkwan. He and Hansol sat in their own little bubble as Hansol tried to tell Seungkwan about the latest hit movie in American theaters.

“Yah, what are you trying to say Seungkwan!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Jeonghan walked up to the table, Seungcheol not far behind him, laughing. 

“He’s got a point. You were drooling in your sleep this morning,” said Seungcheol, taking the seat across from Wonwoo. 

The others laughed as Jeonghan shot Seungcheol a terrifying look. “Do you want me to stab you with this butter knife?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened and shook his hands defensively, causing Jeonghan to smile in return. As if he hadn’t just threatened to kill someone, Jeonghan then ruffled Chan’s bubblegum pink hair and cooed, “How is my favorite baby doing this fine morning?”

“Not your baby,” Chan grumbled but also couldn’t hide his small smile at Jeonghan’s words. The kid really was Jeonghan’s baby. He had gotten into the school this year due to a special scholarship program. Basically, the kid was a genius. But he was so young that he barely qualified as a freshman. As soon as Jeonghan saw him struggling to find his first class in the packed hallway filled to the brim with students, he took him under his wing. Ever since those beginning days of school, Chan was often found following Jeonghan around like a little cub trailing behind its protective mother cheetah. 

And as if he wasn’t young enough, his light pink hair just made him look more like a child. Although the administration scolded him for it, it fit him really well. The soft look juxtaposed his fierce, quick-witted personality. The administration never clearly outlined the rules about hair colors or types in the handbook, but anything besides black or brown hair cut short was considered obnoxious and distracting. Of course, that never stopped Soonyoung, Minghao, Jeonghan, or Jihoon. For every time an administrator pressured Jeonghan into cutting his hair, he just grew it out another inch. It had also been through countless dyes, brown, red, blue, silver, but now he’d settled for a platinum blonde. Even though he was extremely smart and made good grades, Wonwoo was pretty sure the school staff hated him.

Finally Soonyoung in all his bright watermelon-haired glory approached the table and plopped down by Mingyu and Jeonghan. “Junhui, where were you last night? I was worried, you didn’t come back before I fell asleep,” he asked innocently.

Junhui hadn’t prepared a response and his mouth hung open as he struggled to find an answer. 

Mingyu grew suddenly fascinated by the syrup sliding down the pancakes on his plate. Wonwoo hid his face in his coffee mug. Vernon and Seungkwan stopped their side conversation and grew quiet. Jeonghan just flashed Junhui a knowing smirk as if he could see through everyone at the table. “He crashed my room last night! We had a fun time gossiping about the latest news around here, didn’t we?”

“Yep, exactly,” Junhui quickly replied, probably too quickly. 

Seungcheol pursed his lips but decided against saying anything. Soonyoung seemed to get the message and instead began to loudly detail his plan to Mingyu about sneaking a commissary into the school because the lack of quality junk food and candy was atrocious. 

“You know selling items at school is prohibited, right?” Jisoo interjected.

“Yeah, if you talk any louder, I think the entire convent will hear you,” added Minghao. 

“Then maybe they’ll finally get the right idea! Anyway, I’m sure they totally have a secret underground nun commissary that we just haven’t found out about yet. Or a fight club.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of,” scoffed Jihoon, lips upturned and fighting a smile. Dokyeom started to cackle at the idea of a secret nun fight club, which caused many people sitting at the nearby tables to turn their heads and stare at their group. It was funny how their expressions ranged from amused to annoyed to utterly confused. 

Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile into his coffee. These idiots made every tiring day at this horrible school bearable. He couldn’t imagine managing without each and every one of them. Looking back, he wished the school year could have ended just like this, all thirteen of them stupid and laughing, instead of eleven of them sobbing at a funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far thank you so much! I've never written/published anything so...  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated <3
> 
> FYI this is a whole mess AU-wise like don't even think about how this is a stereotypical British boarding school with lots of American aspects and a Korean city school name ahah
> 
> ALSO I'm posting three polaroids related to each chapter because they're so nostalgic and a lot of svt look like students in them. Plus it is so fun to look at all their old photocards, so I have some good ones saved


	2. You Bloom Inside of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like always, no one ever stays out of trouble for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for how long it took me to update, I'm really busy nowadays  
> But this is pretty long!  
> I'll probably have to go back and edit this at some point lol I didn't finish proofreading but I just really wanted to post it already.
> 
> IF YOU'RE READING ON YOUR PHONE, SLIDE TO SEE THE THREE PICTURES!! (They connect to each chapter)

 

“All students must report to the sanctuary of the main church for an immediate assembly.” The announcements blared through the intercom and Xu Minghao groaned. Of course the school had to interrupt him during his one free period while he painted his nails. He’d only gotten to his right hand and two on his left. He scowled, stood up, and began to wave them in front of his dorm room fan.

“Aah!” protested Mingyu. “You’re getting that disgusting chemical smell everywhere! It’s gonna take years to filter our room out!” He started waving his fashion magazine (well, Minghao’s magazine, Minghao noticed, his _stolen_ magazine, as a matter of fact) around like a fan throughout the room, but it only made things worse. It looked like he was trying to swat at an invisible bug and failing. Mingyu put his hands on his hips in front of his half-folded basket of laundry like a dismayed mother. Minghao was pretty sure the guy was OCD, being the one that kept their room immaculately clean and constantly in order. Eventually he gave up trying to fan the air out. “Whatever. Let’s just get out of here.”

They wandered through the old hallways, deciding to take the underground passageway to reach the school church to avoid the horde of students. The building had been around so long that there were stone passages built underneath the school grounds. Most students didn’t know about it, and the ones that did were obviously not permitted. Minghao wondered if they were some sort of servants’ tunnels back in the day. The few entrances were found inside storage closets or nondescript doors next to bathroom entrances. There was even a door located inside a room that connected two classrooms that had a staircase which led up to the roof.

At the end of the passage, they shut off the lights so that the hall was now enveloped in darkness again, and opened the door to the back corner of the church. Students were filing in from all directions, so they were easily able to slip into the crowd and find their friends. 

Jisoo noticed them from his end of the pew and yelled at the others to scoot down so that Minghao and Mingyu could take a seat. Jisoo’s piercing eyes narrowed in on Minghao’s hands immediately. He reminded Minghao of a lean bird, long graceful features and all sharp lines. It even came across in his attitude, refined, controlled, delicate, but razor-edged in an unexpected way. “Why are… eight of your fingernails painted?” he asked with a inquisitive but amused look.

Mingyu leaned over Minghao and whispered, “It’s his artistic vision. He’s trying to make it a big trend.”

Minghao rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot, I just didn’t have time to finish.” 

Junhui snorted beside Jisoo at Minghao’s comment. “Oh my fucking god Jun, do you ever get your mind out of the gutter?” said Minghao.

“Did you just used the Lord’s name in vain? You know we’re in a church, right?” Jisoo wore an incredulous expression directed at Junhui, which Mingyu forced himself not to laugh at. 

Soonyoung overheard the conversation while sitting next to Junhui. He sighed. “Let’s be honest, I think God has already given up on Junhui. He’s a lost cause at this point.” 

“Don’t say that, God loves all of us,” said Jisoo in a completely serious, faithful manner. “You just have to be able to admit your wrongdoings to Him and he will forgive.” He often tried to convince the younger boys to be more religious, but his attempts were pretty futile.

Junhui laughed. “Repent my sins? I’m too far in, I can’t just give up on my reprehensible ways now!” 

A familiar face from the pew in front of them turned around. Yan An. Minghao knew him somewhat, mostly just because he was one of the few other Chinese kids at the school. “Trust me, I’ve tried to help him, it’s hopeless,” he half-whispered to Jisoo.

Junhui slumped further down the bench, crossing his arms in mock-defiance of the barrage of religious attacks and said in Chinese, “Oh please, you still love me anyway” to Yanan, coy smile and all.

Yanan blushed at Junhui’s words, and was unable to respond before being pulled into the conversation of his friends on his pew. Though only Minghao knew exactly what Junhui had said, the rest of them just sighed at Junhui’s flirtatious antics. Yanan and Junhui were pretty close, Minghao knew that, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Junhui had crossed that line of just “friends.” Yanan always turned into an endearing flustered mess whenever Junhui was around him. He just hoped Yanan was smart enough not for Junhui to go on and break his heart.

Beside them, Dokyeom, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan had huddled together, whispering conspiratorially with mischievous grins. “Hey Jun-hyung, come listen to my proposition,” Soonyoung beckoned, and Junhui leaned in. “What do you think of me starting a commissary? Just some ramen, candy, junk food at the school doesn’t sell in the cafeteria.” 

“I don’t think this is—”

“C’mon Jun-hyung, it’s just a bit of fun, the students will be happy, and we can make some extra money,” Dokyeom induced.

“This sounds ridiculous, but if you three want to do it… Why do you need me?” 

“We need someone to spread the word! And you’re really popular,” chimed in Seungkwan. “You know so many upperclassmen and underclassmen. Maybe you could just tell a few people about it…” His round face looked so eager and anticipating, and it was so hard for Junhui to crush his high hopes.

“Okay. I’ll consider it.” 

The trio beamed and began to animatedly plan out how they were going to get everything into the school in bulk.

“Students, I have called you hear for several very important announcements,” a voice reverberated throughout the room. Almost instantly, the commotion of chatting died down and everyone diverted their attention to the front of the church where Father Woosung stood. He was one of the main school administrators and the one that typically led Sunday services. Partially why the whole nearly-2000 student body fell dead silent so quickly was because of Father Woosung. The man couldn’t have been much over six foot, but his presence commanded the room. He had a permanent frown etched on his face, lips drawn together tightly in a constantly disapproving look. The man was notorious for his extreme devoutness and conservative beliefs, contrary to his students. He was the one you did _not_ want to find out about your unholy business, and if he did, you best pray to God or any other god out there listening. 

“Firstly, we must address some unsavory behavior that has been raised to my awareness. As a reminder for those who have failed to remember the school rules, I reiterate that females are not permitted on campus whatsoever, especially not in the dormitories.” Snickers and laughs bubbled up further up the aisle. “Mr. Jackson Wang!” the Father exclaimed. “I suggest you pay attention since you clearly lack in understanding.” Jackson’s face became red and flustered immediately, and his friends quickly quieted down.

On the opposite end of the pew sat Jeonghan and Seungcheol, rolling their eyes at the announcement. Jihoon laughed when Jeonghan said to Seungcheol, “I swear, if you ever bring a girl into our dorm room, don’t underestimate my willingness to throw her out the window.”

“From the third story? You’re cold, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jihoon crossed his arms next to them, making himself appear even smaller, and laughed. “Murder? I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Jeonghan exaggeratedly gasped and looked at Seungcheol to defend him. “Me? Capable of such a heinous crime? I would never.” Jeonghan always loved people to divulge him. Him and his long dyed blonde hair basked in the attention, soaking up every drop of it he could milk out.

Seungcheol’s words didn’t match up with his face. “Well… he’s not wrong, you did threaten my life if I ever stole your lotion again this morning…”

“Ah, okay. I see. You’ve made your allegiance very clear. You chose Jihoon over me, I guess I’ve lost a chingu today…” Jeonghan pouted dramatically and gazed up at the high arched ceilings almost poetically. “I guess Joshuji will have to keep me company now…”

Jihoon thought if Seungcheol rolled his eyes further back into his head they'd pop out. “You’re ridiculous Hannie, when have I ever brought a girl into our room? Never. You don’t have to worry.” Jeonghan didn’t break his gaze from the ceiling to look over at Seungcheol, but he knew the older boy was right. Of course, Seungcheol was too good to fuck any of the girls lined up for him in his room out of respect for Jeonghan. Though it wasn’t like he denied any of the assumptions or comments from the other students that he did just like Jackson Wang and all the other lady killers.

Their conversation was broken by another booming announcement from Father Woojung. “Due to some concerns and valid arguments raised by some of our top students, “—Junhui flashed a toothy grin in Minghao’s direction—”we have also decided to make some changes to our school uniforms.”

The entire aggregation immediately rose up into a chorus of praises and excitement while the Father tried to continue speaking. Wonwoo smiled to himself. If anyone could have done it, it was Moon Junhui. The boy was almost preening as if the whole school should have started bowing down to him then and there. Dokyeom and Hoshi chatted about what the new uniforms would look like. Everyone was buzzing. A burning hatred for the current school uniforms was the single thing every clique in their divided school could unite on.

Seungcheol’s left hand laid innocently of Jeonghan’s knee, twiddling with the material of his slacks. With most peoples’ attentions turned away from them, he slowly grazed his fingers up, up, up Jeonghan’s thigh. He cupped his right hand around Jeonghan’s ear in what looked like to be a casual whisper, but he breathed heavily onto Jeonghan’s neck, lips flush against his skin. Jeonghan could feel himself turning slightly red and he tried to focus on keeping a straight face and facing forward. “Maybe we can ask for the new uniforms to be those short skirts so you can model those long legs for me,” Seungcheol whispered, exhaling down Jeonghan’s neck. His breath hitched as Seungcheol’s fingers pressed down firmly on the inside of this thigh, dangerously near his crotch. 

Jeonghan, the one who was typically always in control of himself, let out a slight choked moan, a break in his gasp when Seungcheol kneaded his fingers harder into the very inside of his thigh. “Choi Seungcheol, this is not the time nor—”

“Hyung?” Dokyeom broke the moment and Jeonghan snapped his head to the side so quickly he was afraid he’d get whiplash. “Are you okay? You look sick.” He was probably right, since Jeonghan could feel the burn of his face and some strands of hair sticking to his skin. Jeonghan looked down at his lap, where Seungcheol had gone back to rubbing his hand on the top of his leg. It made him feel as if he was just imagining everything, as if he had only hallucinated Seungcheol teasing him in the middle of a school assembly.

“I’m alright, it’s just really hot in here, there’s too many people. It’s just a slight headache. Trust me, I’m fine,” he rapidly reassured him.

Dokyeom’s face displayed such sweet concern. _If he only knew._ “I don’t know, maybe you should go lie down... I know how bad your headaches can be.” Dokyeom was right, Jeonghan had had severe chronic migraines for years which he just took frequent over-the-counter and triptan drugs for. But not even a whole drawer full a rattly plastic bottles filled with pills stopped the nausea, vomiting, and pure pain that their group had gotten used to witnessing.

Seungcheol faced Jeonghan in fake-worry, features morphed into innocence, but his wicked eyes told Jeonghan a different story. “I agree, I think I should take you back to our dorm and rest.”

God damn, it was so hard to say no to that conniving face. He caved. “Okay, let’s go.” He stood up steadily, having recovered from the prior shock, but Seungcheol held onto his arm regardless. Jeonghan saw Dokyeom walk up to one of the nuns standing by the wall who nodded in understanding in Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s direction.

As soon as they had exited out the grand wooden doors, Seungcheol pulled Jeonghan into his hands and pressed him up against the nearest marble column in a shadowy alcove. Jeonghan couldn’t believe how overt Seungcheol was being, since they were usually extremely careful. “How could you do that when all the kids were right next to us? You have no self-control,” Jeonghan scolded.

“Oh please, like those ‘kids’ are innocent, half of them are probably having sex with each other,” Seungcheol laughed. “And I do have self-control, just not around you.” He threaded his fingers through the back of Jeonghan’s silky hair, leaning in to pull his teeth on Jeonghan’s bottom lip, and Jeonghan’s lips immediately chasing Seungcheol’s in return. The kiss intensified as Seungcheol slipped his tongue in and the heat escalated, both boys running out of air but completely forgetting about oxygen when they were sustaining life from each other. Jeonghan thought he could survive without oxygen, as long as he had Seungcheol by his side. Fuck water, fuck food, fuck shelter, he could live off Seungcheol’s kisses forever.

Jeonghan broke the kiss finally and pressed his forehead against the older boy’s. He could feel the brush of Seungcheol’s ridiculously long, full lashes, the ones that girls would kill for, the ones of a boy who girls would kill to have. He didn’t know how to feel knowing the lips he was chasing belonged to a man who all the girls believed belonged to them. No one would ever know those full, chapped lips belonged to Yoon Jeonghan, a boy, for that matter. “You know I own a skirt, right?” he whispered in the dark. 

“Really?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened.

He chuckled against his lips. “Yes, I stole it from Junnie.”

“Why does—Honestly, I don’t want to know,” Seungcheol shook his head. “All I care about is you.” His hands slid nicely down Jeonghan’s arched back and slipped perfectly into the waistband of his fitted slacks, eager to tug them down.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jeonghan said, gaining back control of the situation, “Get us back to the dorm and I’ll model the skirt for you and anything else you’d want to see.”

Seungcheol didn’t hesitate.

 

\----------

 

_It had always been Jeonghan._

Seungcheol pulled Jeonghan through the hallway by the hand, Jeonghan giggling when Seungcheol’s fingers fumbled with the dorm room lock and almost dropped the key.

_He first met him in his freshman english class, sitting in the corner desk of the classroom, so far into the corner as if he wanted to melt into it. Everyone was intrigued by the shoulder-length auburn-haired boy who hardly spoke and spent most of the class periods gazing out the window at the students playing out on the soccer field. The only thing Seungcheol knew about him was that he sipped on a strawberry Binggrae throughout the class every single day. Seungcheol never saw him without one. All the other classmates stole fleeting glances at Jeonghan as if they’d be able to somehow decode him and find out what this beautiful boy’s deal was._

_Seungcheol, on the other hand, was the kid who made it his life’s mission to be friends with everyone. So if this Yoon Jeonghan guy believed he’d be able to go the whole school year without talking to him, he was mistaken. He sat across the row from Jeonghan, often asking him simple, casual questions to which he’d get a small, considerate smile and a brief response._

_Two weeks into their poetry unit, they were tasked with the assignment to write their own poems and present them to the class. Seungcheol remembered how a kaleidoscope of butterflies had flown around in his stomach as he timidly read his poem to his classmates. Although he sometimes liked to come up with short rap verses that floated around in his head, his poetry was nothing special._

Despite probably being able to call himself well versed in seducing Yoon Jeonghan, Choi Seungcheol still felt kaleidoscopes of butterflies in his stomach every time his hands tugged off Jeonghan’s shirt. 

_Jeonghan whipped heads at his turn. The boy who never raised his hand and had only spoken about ten words to him opened his mouth and from his lips spilled the most beautiful words Seungcheol thought he had ever heard._

_He tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear like a matter of habit and a light blush dusted his features. Seungcheol watched him take a slow inhale, smile to his classmates, and begin to speak._

_“I’m stuck in the moonlight from when I first bloomed amidst the darkness_  
_I bloom so that no one can see_  
_A flower blooms when no one expects it to_

_“I continue to grow within your happiness_  
_I become immersed into the white light_  
_Whatever you say, it becomes deeper_  
_I bloom_

_“I call for you, I call for you so that no one can hear_  
_For you, who is drunk off this purple light_

Jeonghan switched positions with Seungcheol and pushed his chest down onto the bed. Seungcheol followed his lead and fell back onto the plush covers to lay down and prop himself up against Jeonghan’s lavender pillows. His mind grew hazy while watching Jeonghan peel off his slacks. Then Jeonghan suddenly smiled and pressed a quick kiss against Seungcheol’s lips. “Wait a minute.” Seungcheol groaned loudly and threw his head back in exasperation. He didn’t think he could wait a second. He could hear the closet opening and clothes being thrown onto the floor in a rush. A few seconds later Jeonghan reappeared, smirking in the short skirt like he’d promised. Seungcheol’s mind went into overdrive as he tried to drink in the androgynous being standing in front of him. Jeonghan sunk down onto the bed and slowly crawled up onto Seungcheol’s lap, the thin wool brushing roughly against Seungcheol’s skin. The jumble of thoughts in Seungcheol’s head mimicked the effect of several bottles of soju, but this was a different, _higher_ level of intoxicated.

_“A deeper feeling_  
_Before this night is over, I want to find you_

_“I continue and continue to keep you inside of me_  
_So that I can bloom under this moonlight_  
_Your scent that has become deeper and deeper_  
_I’m getting drunk off of you_  
_It’s changing into a purple light_  
_It’s changing_

_“I’m a small flower_  
_It’s reflected in the mirror_  
_I’ve become immersed in your deepest pain_  
_I pray to the stars so that my flowers may bloom”_

He glanced in front of him at the mirror propped against the dresser whenever Jeonghan bent down and ran his tongue down the expanse of his neck, nipping at his shoulder and shifting the focus of his kisses further down to Seungcheol’s lean, defined chest. The edges were painted in little purple flowers, connected by verdant, swirling branches, thanks to Minghao’s boredom one day over a year ago. Jeonghan loved the damn thing, and it was in his favorite color, so they’d kept it up ever since. Through the mirror he could see Jeonghan’s pale back with Seungcheol’s hands leaving red marks at the sides of his waist, and farther down his waist splayed the plaid gray skirt that barely covered Jeonghan’s ass from this position. Under the skirt, Jeonghan carefully sank down onto Seungcheol with a sharp hiss without warning, causing Seungcheol to gasp and grip onto Jeonghan tighter. Jeonghan flipped his hair over his shoulders and tipped his angelic face back with a reverberating moan, back arching flawlessly like he was the model of a Greek sculpture. 

_He repeated some of the stanzas and finally paused, timidly glancing at the teacher sitting and grading once he was done. Suddenly, the room burst into applause. Seungcheol’s mouth was gaping open, entranced by Jeonghan, smiling in the middle of the room, wrapping his arms around himself out of embarrassment. That was the moment Seungcheol knew he had to get this boy into his life._

_“That was really beautiful,” Seungcheol leaned over from his desk and whispered after Jeonghan had sat down._

_Jeonghan looked at him—like really took a good look at him for the first time, instead of just glancing over—and handed him a pearly, wide smile on a golden platter. He looked so proud. “Thank you, I worked on it really hard.”_

_“Hey,” Seungcheol started up again. “Do you think you’d like—”_

_“Shhh!” The boy in front of them turned his head around so quickly Seungcheol swore he got whiplash. “Stop being rude while people are presenting!”_

_Jeonghan just tipped his head over in Seungcheol’s direction and rolled his eyes into the back of his head once the kid turned around._

As Jeonghan began to rock his hips faster, Seungcheol snapped his hips up quickly and pulled Jeonghan’s thighs down so that Jeonghan’s pretty face morphed into what Seungcheol couldn’t determine as pain or pleasure—probably both. His lips formed an O and his brows knitted together. He kept up the pace, going faster as Jeonghan whimpered, “Che—Cheol—I can't—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Seungcheol replied, pushing Jeonghan’s locks out of his face and kissing his forehead. Seungcheol slowed down when Jeonghan lifted himself up nearly off of Seungcheol and slammed back down, letting out a huge cry that could definitely be heard beyond the confines of their room as Seungcheol bottomed out. 

He was about to wrap his hand around the other’s mouth when he realized there were alone. It was a foreign concept. Everyone was still down at the assembly, though they didn’t know for how much longer it would last.

Seungcheol wished he could savor it. He wished they could take all the time and languor in the world to explore every single inch of each other. But it was always rushed. There was always someone close by or a quickly impending time limit. So Seungcheol just took the opportunities he could and made the best out of it every single time.

_After finally mustering up the courage to challenge him to a game of soccer, here they were, and Yoon Jeonghan was kicking his ass._

_This had started off as a friendly game, but that certainly didn’t last for long. The quiet boy was gone and here he was throwing joking taunts at him on the field as he made another successful score into the goal, hair swishing in his ponytail as he kicked the ball. Seungcheol was thrown for a 180. Was this really the same Yoon Jeonghan as before? If so, he liked his version so much more. Jeonghan couldn’t stop smiling as Seungcheol pouted in defeat. He seemed truly alive and excited, nothing like Seungcheol had seen inside that mind-numbing classroom._

_“I swear to god you’re cheating,” Seungcheol mumbled. At this point he might as well just forfeit._

_Jeonghan just giggled. “Maybe I’m just causing you to realize you’re not as good of a soccer player as you think you are.”_

_“Hey!”_

Seungcheol knew he wouldn’t last much longer and certainly neither would Jeonghan from the looks of it. The other boy was completely out of it, moaning pieces of Seungcheol’s name like a broken mantra. Seungcheol’s hips became more erratic as the two of them approached their peaks. He could feel Jeonghan’s muscles tighten around him, causing Seungcheol to moan out louder. Jeonghan shuddered as his orgasm overtook him. Seungcheol wasn’t far behind, and they managed to finish like a great crescendo, Jeonghan riding it out in pure exhaustion. He fell onto Seungcheol’s chest, lazy enough to ignore the sweat and stickiness in between them. In the silence they were able to concentrate on each other’s breaths. Eventually, Seungcheol carefully got up and cleaned them both up until he was satisfied enough to crawl back under the covers and watch Jeonghan slowly drift off into one of his guaranteed-to-be-long cat naps. Seungcheol didn’t think he could ever get tired of this as he pushed back the strand of hair that had fallen down Jeonghan’s face behind his ear, and let sleep pull him down under too.

_“We could hang out again, next week, if you’d like,” offered Jeonghan, tilting his head with a slight, cautionary smile._

_Yes, Seungcheol would like that very much._

 

\----------

 

Okay, Soonyoung hadn’t _started_ with the intent to distribute drugs.

In World History, Im Changkyun had caught his attention by tapping his shoulder and whispered, “Hey, can I talk to you after class?”

Soonyoung jolted awake from his almost-slumber during the lecture on the Roman Empire, momentarily confused. He turned around to find Changkyun coolly leaning back in his desk and carving circles into his desk with a pen. “Uh, sure?”

Changkyun was a junior too, but he had never talked to him and Soonyoung had no idea why he would ever want to talk to him now. His mind raked through all the possibilities, but nothing in particular came up. It must have had to do with something in class. 

The remaining minutes droned on and as soon as the bell rang, everyone packed up their belongings and raced to the door, spilling out into the hallway like a horde of animals. He fell back and made eye contact with Changkyun, who pulled him aside once they managed to get out.

Changkyun glanced around but decided it was safe enough to go on. “So I heard about your little commissary thing from Junhui. I think it’s a great idea actually, and I could definitely boost your sales.” He leaned against the lockers with his armed crossed and a small grin dancing upon his lips.

“From—From Jun?” Soonyoung remembered convincing Junhui to spread the word about his plan. But why did Junhui have to tell _Changkyun_ of all people? Were they friends? God, Soonyoung hoped not, Changkyun was someone to stay away from. He was always out probably doing bad things with all his university friends, at least from what Soonyoung heard about him, and the chain around his neck, eyebrow piercing, and plethora of studs and swinging earrings didn’t reassure any of Soonyoung’s negative assumptions. He was the last person Junhui should be associated with, though he didn’t seem to be far off from some of the people Junhui got with. Oh God, what if he was one of Junhui’s hookups? The boy had no rational impulse control. But he’d never seem him in their dorm before so that meant—

Changkyun chuckled. “Yes, Jun, Wen Junhui. He’s hot as hell you know. You’re friends with him right? Do you think I could get my hands on him?”

“No!” Soonyoung blurted out. “You can’t!”

“What? Why?” Changkyun asked confusedly. 

“He uh… He has chlamydia! Yeah and uh, don’t want to sleep with him now, it’s contagious!” Oh fuck. Curse Soonyoung and his loud ass mouth. He really needed to start listening to all his friends telling him to stop talking so much. This was it. Junhui was definitely going to smite him off the face of the earth.

Changkyun looked downright uncomfortable. “Oh uh, nevermind then… But really, I can get you rich as hell in here. _Us_ rich as hell. Plus, I’ll be helping out a friend’s business.”

Did Soonyoung really want to get involved with any of Changkyun’s friends? No. But was he a broke as fuck high schooler whose parents barely ever sent him money? Yes. “Okay, go on.” They began to stroll in the direction of their next classes, not wanting to be late.

“Hear me out. You’ve only started selling some basic shit right, like candy and junk food? Yeah, that might get you a little money, but what if you get these kids something that they really want? You could start selling some drugs too, nothing major, just some weed or pills or party drugs. And you wouldn’t have to worry about getting them, my hyung from college, Jooheon-hyung, he has a really good business going with a huge supply coming through. Think about it, the profit we could all make if we broke them into this school would be ridiculous.” Changkyun whispered, as a hole festered in Soonyoung’s stomach. This didn’t feel like a good idea, but Changkyun’s proposition was hard to refuse.

Soonyoung stopped and really considered it. He knew if they did it they’d be incredibly successful. And popular. Everyone around the school would finally respect him instead of always putting him down as the loud, crazy, joking junior that could never take anything seriously. He knew he shouldn't care about what others thought of him, but he couldn’t help it. Being known as the funny friend 24/7 was tiring. “What… what would I have to do?”

“First you can meet my hyung and talk to him some more, but I would bring the drugs to you and then you would just need to give them to the people who came to you and requested it. Easy. Simple.” Changkyun talked about it like this was nothing. Maybe it _was_ nothing, to _him_.

“But what if I get caught?”

“Don’t get caught,” Changkyun laughed.

He was so stupid. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

 

\----------

 

Mingyu scowled as he picked up his sad-looking soybean sprouts and watched them drop back down onto his plate.

“Gyu, really, stop looking at your food like that, it’s scary, and don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing with your food?” Junhui shook his head next to him but still couldn’t help finding Mingyu endearing. 

Mingyu, Junhui, Minghao, Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Dokyeom had lunch at the same time, so they all sat together every day. 

“It’s not my fault I could make soybean sprouts so much better than these. Like, where is the seasoning?” Mingyu pouted, but it was probably true. All the food Mingyu had ever been able to make for them had been amazing. 

Soonyoung suggested he open a restaurant. Then he could make as much soybean sprouts as he wanted. More students were starting to filter into the dining hall, and several scoffed and snickered as they passed their table.

“What are they laughing at?” asked Dokyeom. “Us, obviously, but like, more than usual.”

Minghao narrowed his eyes in suspicion, watching the guys who had just passed them. The others just gave up, shrugged their shoulders, and continued to eat.

A few minutes later Kim Wonsik and Jung Taekwoon strode by with shit-eating grins on their stupid faces. Wonsik grabbed Taekwoon and whispered something in his ear, making Taekwoon laugh while looking directly at them.

“Oh _hell_ no,” said Mingyu. He got up from the table as Junhui tugged his shirt and whispered at him to _sit back down, you idiot_. “What’s your guys’ problem?”

Taekwoon took a step forward, but Wonsik stopped him. The two seniors were so intimidating that Soonyoung wanted to crawl down into a shell. “Don’t get any closer to this slut, honestly it’s not even surprising that he has a disease considering the amount of people that’s fucked him.” His words were thrown directly in Junhui’s direction.

 _Okay_ , Soonyoung thought, memory flashing back to his words with Changkyun earlier in the morning. _Word got around here incredibly quick._

“Hey!” Wonwoo immediately shouted, eyes blazing with a dark fire that was about to burn down the entire room. “What did you just say?” 

“You heard me, you’ve probably fucked him too, haven’t you?” Wonsik egged Wonwoo on, and Taekwoon laughed beside him.

“I don’t know what they’re talking about, please just ignore them and they’ll leave us alone,” Junhui spoke softly, looking half-confused and half-disconcerted. 

That’s when Mingyu’s fist connected with Wonsik’s smug face. Minghao flinched at the audible crack as Wonsik stumbled back sluggishly. Wonsik looked back up at them and touched his nose. When he pulled his hand away, bright blood coated his fingers. He spat a wad of bloody spit at Junhui who was closest to him.

Junhui cringed in revulsion and mortification. Wonwoo grabbed his napkin and sat back down to quickly wipe the spit from his chestnut bangs as best he could. Of course it was Wonwoo that took care of him, again, like always. “They’re going to die,” Wonwoo muttered so that only Junhui could hear. “I don’t want to hear anyone ever talk about you like that.”

Junhui looked strong, but he wanted to crumple up on the inside. “They already do.”

Meanwhile, Taekwoon toppled Mingyu to the ground and began to throw a barrage of punches. The fumble was a flurry of crazed limbs as both boys got kicks and punches in. Mingyu fought with a sick grin, laughing in the moment despite getting beaten up. His canine grin made him look almost animalistic. Suddenly he managed to get the upper hand and stood back up. He walked back over to their table, grabbed his bowl of soybean sprouts, and chucked it at Taekwoon. “Take that kongnamul-muchim! It was fucking disgusting anyway!” 

Minghao tried to stifle his giggle at Mingyu's attack and the pale strands of soybean sprouts and hot pepper flakes disgracefully mixing into Taekwoon's previously-perfect blonde hair, because this was definitely the wrong place and the wrong time to be laughing.

“Oh my—What do we do?” Dokyeom’s eyes widened like a frightened pigeon. Minghao was trying to pull Mingyu away from Taekwoon but it was useless. The two of them were both huge. Wonsik had seemed to get over his face and began to walk over to Mingyu, but Wonwoo beat him to it and shoved him back. That caused Wonshik to hit him in return. Soonyoung was about to respond but noticed two teachers making their way over, yelling at them to break it up.

The teachers screamed at them but of course they didn’t listen. One teacher grabbed Mingyu’s arm and yanked him away from Taekwoon and Wonsik, who were held back by the other teacher. “You four!” Wonsik. Taekwoon. Mingyu. And Wonwoo. “You are all going to detention right this instant!” Mingyu tried to shrug himself out of the teacher’s tight grasp but Wonwoo just grabbed his other arm and forced him to follow the teacher. Wonwoo glanced back to see Junhui, tight-lipped. 

They were led to the barren detention room and forced to sit in desks in opposite ends of the room. One teacher droned on about actions and consequences but Wonwoo drowned it out, preferring to lay back and stare at the ticking clock. The teacher sat down at the long desk at the front of the classroom and concerned himself with propping his feet up on the desk and scrolling through his phone.

The silence was deafening. Minutes ticked by. The man glanced at his watch, and got up, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Then he left the classroom and the tension grew even thicker, if that was possible. Wonwoo turned around to look back at Mingyu who was still red and burning holes into the back on Wonsik’s skull.

The boys turned their heads at someone by the entrance. Junhui slipped into the room and walked over to Wonwoo’s desk. Mingyu quickly ran up to sit beside them too.

“Are you okay?” Junhui asked, so worried that they had been hurt. His eyes scanned for every single minute injury. Mingyu was sporting a rough bruise on his temple and shoulder, and Wonwoo had a split lip.

“Forget about us, are you okay?” said Mingyu.

“You two don’t have to defend my honor,” Junhui coddled the two, fingers pushing back Mingyu’s hair to assess the damage on his forehead. “It’s my fault. They weren’t completely wrong after all. And they’re just stupid rumors. I can take care of myself, okay?”

Wonwoo and Mingyu started to protest but Junhui shushed them. He stood up again and took a glance at Taekwoon and Wonshik. “I don’t know what shit you heard, but you better watch your fucking mouths next time, because I have a family of 12 people who will not hesitate to fuck you up and make your life a living hell.” With that, he slipped out of the room just as smoothly as he had come.

Yes, Junhui was all sharp words and fronts. He believed his own words, truly, but the walls on his perfectly constructed appearance were threatening to fall in. The root was about to collapse, and Junhui didn’t know if he could take it. He’d had to deal with these words, to his face and behind his back, for years, and it was starting to take a toll on him. There was only so much a seventeen year old boy could deal with, as fierce and keen as he appeared to everyone else.

He made his way back to his dorm and found Soonyoung already there, laying in bed on his phone.

Soonyoung glanced up to look at Junhui. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding an odd amount of weight to it.

“It’s okay.” Junhui attempted to smile anyway, because it was okay, it was all okay, everything had to be okay, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T WRITE SEX FOR SHIT I'M SORRY but yes, I put Purple Rose in there, because I love it so much...  
> BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT GETTING CLOSER??????  
> I'VE LISTENED TO IT ABOUT 500 TIMES I NEED TO STOP  
> I think it fueled me to finish this end though I'm suuuuper busy (but I have my break soon and I'll be able to write more then!)
> 
> LEAVE COMMENTS AND TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS, THEY TRULY MAKE MY DAY :)


	3. Gangster's Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo and Mingyu focus on school, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Seungkwan, and Jun focus on something a little less admirable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I've literally had that last scene written since the beginning of writing this story  
> I'd actually planned to have two more parts in this, but it was getting so long that I had to stop cause I really wanted to update.
> 
> IF YOU'RE READING ON YOUR PHONE, SLIDE TO SEE THE THREE PICTURES!! (They connect to each chapter)

 

When he met Lee Jooheon for the first time, Soonyoung wondered if he’d gotten too over his head.

With much convincing, he’d managed to drag Dokyeom and Seungkwan with him on his little excursion. Though to be honest, it wasn’t like the underclassmen made him feel any safer. It mostly just reassured Soonyoung that if he died, he wouldn’t be dying alone, if anything. Anyway, it may have been Soonyoung’s idea, but the three were business partners. The well-known BooSeokSoon. Mostly known for being crazy and pulling dumb jokes, not selling drugs. But hey, maybe it was time to reinvent themselves.

Changkyun was with them too. He’d set up a meeting in one of the old abandoned staff rooms through the underground passageways. His hyung from the nearby college, Jooheon, was there, so he guessed there must be other entrances to this school than he or any of his friends knew about.

Soonyoung hated it down here. He remembered being thrown down here on a dare without a flashlight as a sophomore and walking around terrified for a while until Jihoon had come down and thankfully dragged him out. The whole place was cold, dark, and dirty. He’d be glad if he never had to come back, yet here he was.

On their way to the old office room, Changkyun made talk and cracked jokes, laughs reverberating down the empty hallway, none of which amused him. Soonyoung couldn’t tell if it was just a part of his laid-back personality or all efforts to get Soonyoung to chill the fuck out, cause right now he felt like a live wire about to shoot out sparks. His anxiety was twisted and pulled taut into running currents of electricity. He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his fingers hanging beside his waist, and he caught Seungkwan noticing and flashing looks of questioning concern.

With his focus on their conversations fading in and out, he briefly caught Changkyun asking something about Junhui, whether he was seeing anyone, if he went out on the weekends like some of the upperclassmen did. He heard Seungkwan emit a lame response and Dokyeom and Seungkwan exchanged confused looks.

“What is his deal with Junhui?” mouthed Dokyeom, to which Soonyoung just shrugged in return. Honestly, why was their whole entire school so obsessed with his hyungs? And people always liked to drag them into it out of association. He guessed being tied by association to them had its perks and downfalls. 

His mind seemed to wander like crazy in the dark as he tried to ignore the racing heartbeat in his chest that wouldn’t go away in this despicable place. His tangent of thoughts stopped when they finally reached the room with soft warm light pouring out of it. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he was scared. Stepping into the room essentially meant no going back. But he kept telling himself life was about taking chances when they were handed to you. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice. Soonyoung blamed it on his poor ability to ignore his dying impulses. The human brain didn’t stop developing until age 25.

As he entered the room, Jooheon sat in the office chair with his legs propped up on the desk unabashedly. Soonyoung cringed at the squeaky clean Union LA Air Forces crossed on top of the wooden desk. Yes, he was superstitious, he couldn’t help it. Fresh shoes on the table meant bad luck and death. But it wasn’t like Soonyoung was about to tell this college guy to get his feet off the fucking table.

Jooheon was intimidating. His fingers twiddled lazily with the swishing cord of the old green banker’s lamp without a care in the world, as if there wasn’t a grand expanse of illegal drugs spread in front of him. When he heard Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom approaching, he sat up in his chair but made no effort to get up, pushing back a piece of his wavy blonde hair back with a smug look.

Soonyoung prayed he wouldn’t stutter. “I’m Kwon Soonyoung, and this is Lee Seokmin and Boo Seungkwan,” he said, gesturing to the boys on either side of him. 

“Hmm.” His eyes made a quick once-over of his friends, eyes assessing but revealing nothing, and quickly flicking his gaze up to Soonyoung again. Seungkwan and Seokmin probably amounted to very little in his view. It was Soonyoung who he was primarily interested in, immediately catching the intense, upturned slits that reminded Jooheon so much of his own. 

“Changkyun told me about you. I’ve got your drugs,” he smirked, flicking his hand vaguely towards the substances in numerous plastic bags. Seungkwan and Dokyeom’s eyes grew wide as saucers as they examined the table’s constants. Soonyoung’s breath hitched when he noticed the dark handgun peeking from behind the table, tucked in Jooheon’s waistband.

He wondered what his dear mother would say if she knew he was standing in front of a man with a gun and a shit ton of illegal drugs at the school she’d shipped him off to in order to “calm down”.

“I’ll give you a little run through,” said Jooheon. “You’ll sell the weed in the dime bags and five gram bags here, nothing more. Once people try it, they’ll be forced to come back to you for more, trust me.” Then he lifted up one of the small packets of white powder and shook it. “This is a gram of coke. One hundred dollars.” Finally he got to the array of variously-colored pills. “One ecstasy pill is worth twenty, over here is the Valium and Xanax for anxiety, Adderall for studying, LSD for partying. Now, I have one last thing,” he said, holding up a bag of small white pills that Soonyoung would never be able to recognize. “Listen, these are sublingual fentanyl tablets, probably the best painkillers I’ve ever tried. They’ll fuck you up, and since I don’t want any kids dying at this school, I’m giving you naloxone too, which reverses the effects.”

The little vials of clear liquid naloxone sat mocking him from the corner of the desk. Jooheon then went through some more information and how the drugs would be kept down there since no one ever went down there anyway, and again, to not get caught. It was all a huge information overload. It wasn’t like Soonyound knew any of this stuff before. He’d also have to relay some of it to Junhui later.

“One more thing,” Jooheon added, finally standing up and leaning against the desk. For all of his intimidating appearance, Soonyoung was surprised to notice that he wasn’t any taller than himself. “I have one rule. I don’t care who you sell it to, or what they do with it, just don’t fucking use or steal any of it, okay?” 

Soonyoung gulped and quickly nodded since the words were failing to form in his mouth. “Yes, yes, of course.”

“Seems like we have a deal then,” Jooheon smiled, revealing a chubby-cheeked smile and half-crescent eyes that were entirely unbecoming of his persona. Still, a glint of a dangerous threat seeped through his bright expression, which wasn’t lost on Soonyoung. 

He felt a hand wrap around his shoulder before he knew who it was and turned to Changkyun beginning to whisper in his ear. “He got cheated out of a deal once. The distributor smoked lot of his shit that he was supposed to sell. And well… It didn’t really end up well for him.” 

“What happened to him?” Seungkwan asked slowly in awe, who Soonyoung had almost forgot was behind him.

“Well, uh, he shot him.”

He was off to a great start.

 

\----------

 

Midterms were quickly approaching, and Mingyu was drowning without a life jacket in a deep, violent sea. He was failing or nearly failing almost all his classes. Hell, the only class he was currently passing was Horticulture because Minghao would point out all his (frequent) mistakes and help him out of pity.

It wasn’t like he didn’t try. He tried! He actually cared. Just nothing he tried to do seemed to ever work. They’d gathered in the library to try and get some studying done for their exams, but funnily there was a strong, obvious divide between the people who were actually studying and the other ones… “studying”. 

Wonwoo was hunched over his falling apart textbook mumbling something about how he had to do well and place first in the class, like if he didn’t it would be the end of the world. “Take a break Wonwoo-ah~” Junhui crept up behind Wonwoo’s chair and wrapped his arms around Wonwoo, cutting him out of his focused state and nearly jumping out of the chair. “Ah!” Though it was hard for Wonwoo to keep an angered face while Junhui displayed his signature heart-lipped smile. 

Jihoon snickered from his seat my the window. “You’ll do fine Wonwoo, you’re the only one that understands anything in AP Physics anyway.”

“AP Physics?” Mingyu huffs exasperatedly. “I give up. I’m surrounded by too many smart people.”

Seungkwan looked up from his Macbook which he’d been intently typing away at. “Don’t say that, you’re plenty smart! Plus, you’re forgetting we have Soonyoung over here.” He gestured at the boy who was slumped against the table, lazily scrolling through his Instagram feed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying, Soonyoung?” asked Seungcheol from across the table, looking too much like a concerned dad.

Soonyoung lifted up his head slightly in order to look at Seungcheol. “At some point you’ve just got to accept failure and give up.”

“That’s encouraging,” Minghao teased from behind his Vogue magazine.

Mingyu threw his hands up in defeat, throwing his chemistry notebook on the table. “This is impossible! Who decided we needed to know the names of every single element on the planet! Who decided we needed to label them by the ridiculously complicated 1s 2s 2p 3s 3p 4s 4p—” 

“Actually, it was Niels Bohr,” chimed Wonwoo.

“What?” Mingyu whipped his head around at the other boy in confusion.

“The Bohr Atomic Model? Niels Bohr, the guy who came up with electron configurations…”

“That’s not helpful right now.”

“Well, it probably will be on your test, if you don’t know it now. It’s pretty important.”

“Mingyu, if you’re struggling, why don’t you find a tutor?” suggested Dokyeom, cutting off the two’s bickering before it could go any further. Those two seemed to be on edge a lot around each other lately and nobody seemed to know why. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people around here who would be willing to tutor you.”

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu asked hopefully, trying to forget their conversation seconds before. Okay, maybe he was pushing his luck. 

“Too busy, sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Jeonghannie-hyung?” he cooed, making sure to add a cute, hopefully persuading smile.

Jeonghan was sprawled out on the window bench by Jihoon across Chan’s lap as Chan fiddled with his hair and played around making braids. “Um, I’m pretty busy,” he drawled out as he closed his eyes and basked in the warm sun.

Mingyu scoffed in disbelief. “Busy? Hyung, what are you doing!”

“Things! Are you questioning me?” Seongcheol rolled his eyes at how much power Jeonghan held over their dongsaengs. His logic didn’t even make sense, but Mingyu couldn’t come up with any winning refutations. 

“Unbelievable... I never see you study, but you’re like, what? Third in the class?” The boy was just a natural genius, in and out of school.

“Am I? I have no idea,” he replied coolly.

“Does he really not know?” whispered Dokyeom to Joshua beside him. 

Joshua just sighed. “Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, he doesn’t really seem to care about it.”

Mingyu was beginning to think he’d never find a suitable tutor. 

“I could help you, if you want,” said Minghao, offering him a small smile. “I mean, I’m doing pretty well in my classes and it’d be convenient since we share a room, right?”

At that moment, Mingyu mentally thanked God for the sweetness that was the bright, kind Xu Minghao. Who knew there was someone this entirely selfless and willing to help out his sorry ass? 

“Ah, you’re the best!”

 

\----------

 

“Alright Wonwoo, you’re literally going to drive your brain crazy. Stop. This is ridiculous.” Junhui grabbed onto Wonwoo’s textbook in order to tear it out of his grip. Several hours later and all of the boys had eventually trickled out of the library, leaving only Wonwoo. And by extension, Junhui sitting to annoy him and keep him company, since he decided he didn’t have anything better to do. And he was seriously worried about his friend. The boy had dark circles under his sleepy eyes, and every time he started to droop his head and nod off into sleep, his glasses slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up every time. Junhui was counting. This was the sixth time.

Junhui stared right into Wonwoo’s eyes and sternly instructed, “Give me the book.”

“No.” Wonwoo’s hands tightened on the corners of pages 547 and 548.

“Wonwoo.” Junhui began to pull on his side harder, but Wonwoo wouldn’t budge.

“Junhui.” Wonwoo met Junhui’s eyes back like it was a challenge of who would let go first.

Eventually Junhui gave up against Wonwoo’s relentless hold, leaving Wonwoo smirking in victory. “Don’t look so satisfied! This is nothing to be proud of! You need a break!” Junhui exclaimed, sounding too much like Wonwoo’s mother for comfort. “What did I tell you about relaxing?” He whined.

Wonwoo leaned back in his seat and huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I’m not going to the club right now, my AP Physics exam is in two days!”

“Study tomorrow! I swear, if you don’t stop, I’ll burn that damn book to a crisp in the fireplace. Watch me.”

“Whatever. I guess I’ll just study for calculus then…”

Junhui leaned onto the table directly across from Wonwoo, elbows propped up to meet Wonwoo’s height. “If you stop now, I promise I’ll give you a reward and you can do something a little more interesting than studying,” whispered Junhui, his face inches away from Wonwoo’s. He bit his lip, which only emphasized his intent. Wonwoo glanced around the library to see if anyone was seeing a boy practically draped over a work table, but the library was nearly empty and everyone was busy.

“You’re insufferable. You really think I’m that easy?” Wonwoo scoffed and turned his head away from Junhui and let out a disbelieving laugh that reverberated throughout the empty room.

Junhui slumped back into his seat and plopped his head in his hands. “Maybe so.” Maybe he was sad because his charms usually worked on everyone else. After a moment, he perked back up and leaned in again. “Want to hear some gossip?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, but closed his textbook shut. “I’m not really the gossiping type here, if you haven’t picked that up yet.”

“But it’s about Soonyoung, Dokyeom, and Seungkwan!” he half-whispered despite how empty the library was, leaning across the table excitedly.

That caught Wonwoo’s attention, his head snapping up at Junhui. “What?”

“Soonyoung, plus Seungkwan and Dokyeom, are selling a college guy’s drugs to our school.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” he scoffed. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Why? I think it’s pretty smart, actually. We’re just providing the people what they so greatly need. Or want, at least.”

“‘We’? You better tell me you don’t have a part in this, Wen Junhui.” Wonwoo scowled in disapproval.

Junhui sighed as he played absentmindedly with the collar of his turtleneck. “Okay, not directly, just think of me as a very attractive, convincing sales rep.”

“Oh my god.”

“What! Someone has to get the word out and get them customers until they start getting popular.”

“Oh, and it has to be you?” Wonwoo shook his head and wouldn’t face Junhui. He was afraid if he looked at him he would get too mad. He had no obligation to help their business, yet he was almost whoring himself out for them, to put it crudely. Every possible ending that Wonwoo envisioned led to bad outcomes for Junhui.

“What, am I not capable?” Junhui challenged. “Why do you care so much what I do? You can’t stop me.”

“No, I can’t,” he whispered. That’s what he was afraid of. Was it not obvious that Wonwoo cared so much because of Junhui’s effect on him? “Regardless, Dokyeom and Seungkwan are only a sophomore and freshman! What is Soonyoung thinking dragging them too into his shit?”

“I don’t know, they’re all so close. They’re a good team. Plus, people tend to forget how smart they are. They can do it.” 

“I swear Junhui, when they definitely get caught, don’t expect me to easily bail you out from the hell you’re going to fall into,” Wonwoo said with warning.

Who was Wonwoo kidding? The first person that would ever bail Junhui out if they could would be him.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it all under control. They’re keeping all the drugs in the underground passageways. None of the administrators go down there anyway.” Junhui looked around and lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of stuff they’ve got down there. Weed, Adderall, cocaine, you name it all.”

“Co—cocaine!” Wonwoo nearly spit out the water he had been sipping on. 

Junhui shrugged it off like it was nothing. “The idiots at this school will be getting off on it soon.”

“And, wait—You said Adderall?” Okay, yes, his interest was peaked.

“Yeah, they’ve got plenty of it. Wait, what?” Junhui stopped in confusion when he realized his uptight friend was asking about what drugs they had.

“I’ll pay you for it. I’ll be your first customer.”

“No!”

“Oh my god,” said Wonwoo. “You’re the one who was boasting about selling drugs but I can’t buy any? You’re a terrible sales rep. If you’re like this with all your future customers, this business is really doomed to fail.”

“Shut up! It’s just that I know what you want it for. Everyone takes it so they can cram and unhealthily study better before tests and shit.”

“But that’s why you’re selling it!” laughed Wonwoo.

“Yeah, but to other people.”

“Not me.”

“Not you,” Junhui agreed. “Can you blame me? Your studying habits already worry me, stimulants will only make it worse.” 

Wonwoo would have appreciated Junhui’s concern if he didn’t have an newly overwhelming desire for the drug. He hadn’t even considered it before, but the idea was so tempting. “Please, you only have to give me a little bit, just enough to get me through exams, and that’s it, I promise,” Wonwoo pleaded with a desperate look.

Junhui blew out a long breath to release some of his tension. “Fine, just… I’ll see what I can do.”

Wonwoo told himself his motivations were entirely moral and correct. And if he tried hard enough, he believed it. He had to do perfect on these exams. Not even for him, but for his family. He could remember how disappointed his parents were when he used to fail school before he went to Cheongju. Back then he didn’t care, but things were different now. Wonwoo had barely seen his parents over the last few years, and one of the few memories seared into his brain was finding his mother crying behind her bedroom door one day when she got a letter from the school in the mail with his report, and his father’s stern, sour expression that night at the dinner table. He looked at Wonwoo with cold eyes as if he were the most disappointing thing in the world, less worthy than the dirt under his shoes, as if to say, _I wish you weren’t my poor excuse of a son._

Maybe he could finally prove to them that he was worth a bit more.

 

\----------

 

“Is this enough soil?” whispered Mingyu, who had already managed to get potting soil on his jacket in the first five minutes of class.

Minghao chuckled. “Yeah, don’t forget you have to dig a space to put in our plants.”

Somehow, Mingyu had a severely brown thumb. His big, clumsy hands could somehow ruin the most basic of plants or flowers. He even killed his rose plant once, which their teacher had said was virtually unkillable. 

Today they were planting Forget-me-nots, made up of tiny violet petals and fragile yellow centers. Mingyu felt like they were going to crush under his big clumsy fingers. On the other hand, Minghao handled them as delicately as the flowers, long slim fingers carefully placing them in his own container.

Was he looking at Minghao’s fingers? Is looking at your friends fingers normal? He totally wasn’t fixated on how thin Minghao’s long fingers were, something he had never noticed before. How did they manage to look pretty even while his nails were caked with potting soil?

“Aren’t these supposed to symbolize love or something?” He wondered. “Well, don’t pretty much all flowers symbolize love?”

Minghao began to pour water into his planter, thinking thoughtfully. “You know, Wonwoo was telling me about flower meanings once, and I think in the story, a man took his lover out by the river and picked her flowers, but he fell into the river. He couldn’t get out because his armor was so heavy, but he threw the flowers at her and shouted to ‘forget me not’. Then he drowned and died.”

“Well that was just depressing.”

“Maybe, but it’s also kinda beautiful and tragic, don’t you think?” Minghao tilted his head at Mingyu from where he was pressing the soil down around his seedling. Mingyu’s hands stilled above his planter.

“Eh. I’d rather have a happy love story. Not one that ends up in death. I’m much too young for dying.” He shuddered at his own imagination. He’d never even been in love anyway. No one was even interested. Well, there was that one time when a girl in middle school had snuck her number inside his sandwich… But awkward middle school romances aside, there was nothing.

Minghao laughed smoother than the summer breeze and smiled like sunshine, somehow lighting up the dismal never-ending winter that seemed to wrap around them. It had been snowing off and on for weeks. “Who knows, Kim Mingyu, maybe this is your year.”

After class was over, they were done for the day and hastily retreated back to their dorm room so that they could avoid people. Minghao had promised to help tutor Mingyu for some of his classes.

“Do you have your book?” Minghao asked, arms crossed and waiting, already looking like an annoyed teacher. He already had his book out and flipped to their most recent chapter assignment. _How did he do that so fast?_ , Mingyu wondered in amazement.

Then he snapped out of his curiousity once he caugth sight of Minghao’s face. “Uhh…. Give me a second.” He fished through his bookbag, reaching past crumpled papers and binders until the reached the bottom, pulling out his bent and torn copy of Crime and Punishment. 

Minghao flashed him an exasperatedly look which Mingyu fought back with a puppy-like grin. Minghao just sighed and got him to open up his book to the right page so that they could finally start.

“Okay, you said you were having trouble understanding the writing right? I thought we could start out at the beginning of our current chapter and work our way through and then analyze the text.”

“Okay…” Mingyu faded off, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Some irrational part of his brain was worried about looking stupid in front of Minghao, even though he knew Minghao would never judge him. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to do this. He was slowly starting to regret it. “Should I start now?” he asked uncertainly.

Minghao chuckled softly. “Yeah, go ahead.”

He let out a deep breath. Part two, chapter four, easy. Simple. Or, it should be simple. “This was a gentleman no longer young, stiff and portly appearance, and a… cautious, and sour counterbalance. He began stooping short in the doorway, staring about him with offensive and undis…undistinguished? astonishment, as asking himself what place he had come to.”

Minghao’s confused expression suddenly had a revelation and became questioning. “Mingyu… Has anyone ever asked you if you were dyslexic?”

“What?”

“You skip and misread words and read very slowly, as if you’re struggling. You know many people don’t realize they’re dyslexic until they’re teenagers or adults? It’s possible none of your teachers have caught it if they haven’t heard you read aloud. My little brother is dyslexic, that’s why I know,” said Minghao.

“I mean… Maybe? I guess so? It makes sense, why it doesn’t make sense…” He’d never thought of it. He just thought he wasn’t as smart as the others, no matter how hard he tried. But it wasn’t really his fault after all, was it?

“Maybe we could go to the school psychologist, if you feel comfortable with it,” suggested Minghao, looking at him with brilliant hope shining in his eyes. “Trust me, she’ll be able to help you. You’re so smart and hardworking Mingyu. You just need someone to help you out a bit with some techniques and programs, that’s all.”

Mingyu realized he hadn’t ever heard someone truly say something like that about him so genuinely. Sometimes people gave him shallow reassurances when he voiced his difficulties. With Minghao, the boy really meant it. It was the first time Mingyu had been praised on his school abilities, and it felt so good. What harm was there in seeing if Minghao was right? It wasn’t like his grades were getting any higher. “Okay, I’ll go.”

 

\----------

 

“Jeonghan-hyung, I can’t find my glasses!” Chan typically wore contacts, but the other day he’d only had his glasses on. He knew he’d set them down somewhere or taken them off and now he had no idea where they could possibly be. He’d looked in all his classes and in his room. It was like they’d just disappeared. This was probably his fault for constantly losing track of his things and not taking better care of his glasses.

Then he suddenly remembered he’d been hanging out in Jeonghan’s room with him the other day, so the older boy let him take his key and go look around for them.

He even got on his knees and desperately searched under Jeonghan’s bed to see if they could have been knocked over. There was a clutter of clothes and random papers scattered until the bed, but what caught his eye was a small wooden box like one someone would put jewelry, trinkets, or valuables in. He grabbed the box and flicked his eyes back to the door. Jeonghan wasn’t near, so he cautiously opened the box. Chan knew it was a blatant invasion of privacy, but his curiosity got the best of him.

Inside was the small polaroid camera their friends often took pictures with. They’d made so many fun memories taking random pictures of each other over the years, and it was funny to look back at how young they looked and see how quickly some of them had grown up already.

But these weren’t those kinds of photos.

It started off with Jeonghan in his white button-down, the last piece of their student uniforms, and tie loose and haphazardly undone. He flipped through the next photographs, which were similar but taken at many different angles. Jeonghan’s eyes had such an alluring, captivating quality, and paired with his long dyed hair, he truly did look like an angel. Or maybe a fallen angel, for no angel would look this seductive. Throughout the polaroids, his tie got looser, shirt unbuttoned further until it was completely off, and hair gradually more and more tousled, strands flying in all directions on bed sheets like a halo. He’d never seen his hyung like this and it sent a shock of surprise and a twinge of jealousy through him. Chan swore he was being ridiculous. Jeonghan would always see him as a baby brother, a ward even, but nothing more. He needed to get over whatever emotions he was brewing before they developed any further.

Who had taken these photos? Jeonghan had always had suitors lined up around the block, but he hardly gave any of them the time or day. Chan knew from his time at Cheongju so far that Jeonghan had occasional flings with other students, but they were never introduced to their group or ever mentioned by Jeonghan. He wasn’t necessarily secretive about his love life, but he didn't exactly divulge into the details either. Could it have been some random student? He remembered seeing the bubbly, sweet-faced Lee Minhyuk walk out of Jeonghan’s room before. Could it have been him? It hardly seemed like it, judging from the level of intimacy he could grasp through the photographs. Even the act of taking such suggestive polaroids of someone else in bed was something you wouldn’t do with just any casual hookup. 

Reaching the end of the stack was Jeonghan lying in a bed, clearly naked, with the white sheets hiding only the most revealing expanses of skin. There was one of someone else’s hand reaching out and cupping the bottom of Jeonghan’s chin, forcing him to look up, with a thumb pulling on his bottom lip. Another showed him propped up against a headboard, gazing straight into the camera. Chan felt as if his eyes were burning straight into his soul through the photograph, calling him out for ever opening the box. The juncture of Jeonghan’s neck and chest were visibly littered in soft red marks trailing down, down, down. The elegance of his pale, jutting collarbones was interrupted by the remnants of hard kisses. Chan told himself to snap out of it, but he couldn’t look away. The sight was bewitching.

When Chan saw the photo near the very last of the pile, let out an audible gasp and the box accidentally slipped through his fingers, the photos spilling out across the wooden floor in a million directions and the camera slamming to the floor, skimming across the planks but thankfully still intact. He cringed at how loud the clatter was and prayed Jeonghan or no one else was near and caught him surrounded by tons of photographs of his hyung. He didn’t know how he would ever talk himself out of that damning situation.

The one photograph that had caused him such a shock was still facing him on the floor, making the fact unavoidable. It was of Seungcheol, holding up a camera with a soft smile on his swollen red lips. He sat on the same mussed up sheets, shirt falling off his shoulder, teasing a bit of his chest. It was undeniable.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Seungcheol and Jeonghan?

He knew those two had met each other at the beginning of their freshman year and stuck together ever since, but they were just best friends. They teased each other nearly ever day, worked their charm on one another to get the other to do something for them, confided and cried to each other, and practically raised and advised ten kids, but this? 

Everyone at Cheongju knew Yoon Jeonghan was gay. They stereotyped him as the prissy, long-haired pretty boy, and in some respect they were right, but he was so much more than that. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that everyone thought of Choi Seungcheol as the opposite. A tough but warm and affectionate guy, and devilishly handsome and athletic. As much as everyone knew Jeonghan was gay, there wasn’t a single question in anyone’s minds that Seungcheol was anything but straight. Did they really have the wrong idea about him all along? He hadn’t even told his closest dongsaengs… He couldn’t stop his mind from wondering what else he could be hiding from them. 

He scrambled to gather up all of the photographs, each each and every one searing into his memory like a permanent, burning brand. He didn’t know how he would be able to face Jeonghan (or Seungcheol, for that matter) the next time he saw him.

“Channie!” Jeonghan’s lilting voice echoed down the hall. “Have you found your glasses yet?” Chan’s heart raced a million miles an hour as he immediately scampered to pick the rest of the photos up when the door opened and he stopped as still as death. Jeonghan’s smile dropped once his eyes met Chan’s and saw the photographs on the floor and in his hands. His face froze up as if he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he began to speak softly. “Chan…”

“Since when have you and Seungcheol been together? Why haven’t you ever said anything?” he blurted out, not able to stop his words before they were thrown into the exposing open. Then he just couldn’t stop. “I thought we told each other everything! You’re such a liar, Jeonghan! Seungcheol too! You’ve been lying to all of us. Your _family_. I guess family doesn’t mean shit to you,” he spat. He knew he shouldn’t be saying such things, but the words just regurgitated out in a disgusting heap of anger and betrayal. 

Jeonghan’s mouth hung wide open in shock and hurt at Chan’s sharp words until he managed to compose himself enough to speak again. “Hey, don’t you dare say I don’t love my family! What’s between me and Seungcheol has nothing to do with you.” Jeonghan approached Chan with a heated expression and tore the polaroids out of his resisting hands.

“What, I don’t need to know anything because I’m a baby? Is that it?” Chan’s voice got increasingly louder. “Just because I’m younger than the rest of you doesn’t make me stupid!” He got so loud that he could probably be heard from down the senior dorm hall.

“That’s not it!” the accused protested. “First off, nothing’s completely official. Then there’s Seungcheol’s reputation. Would you like me to ruin it? If we told someone, the whole group would find out, and then the whole school would eventually find out, and then what if the administrators pick up on it? We would be in huge trouble.”

“Honestly, what’s the worst they could do?” said Chan, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Jeonghan sat down on the bed and looked down at his lap. “Look, I know you haven’t been here very long, but you don’t want to know. Please, Chan, if you care for me, for your hyungs, don’t ever say anything.” Jeonghan looked up at him with his pleading eyes and angelic face, making it impossible for Chan to not give in. Who could resist Yoon Jeonghan? Certainly not Chan. Jeonghan’s beautiful but pained and desperate face tugged at his heartstrings. He could see the shining blur in the older’s eyes that threatened to spill. Lee Chan wanted desperately to reach out and wipe the tears from Jeonghan’s eyes but restrained himself. 

Chan sat in silence for a moment to gather his thoughts, closing his eyes. This was all too much. And he’d rather not close his eyes, because when he did, those photos flashed through his mind like a sick, paralyzing film reel. When he opened his eyes, he took in Jeonghan.

“Do you love him?”

The boy froze up again as his lips tried to form a coherent answer, but couldn’t. He was lost for words. “I—I just—Just go, Chan. Just go.” Jeonghan let out a sigh and laid down on the bed with his back toward the door and Chan, so the other boy wouldn’t see the stream of tears beginning to run down his crumbling face. Facing the wall, he whispered, “Please go.”

Maybe Chan shut the door a little too harshly on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or tell me your thoughts in the comments if you liked this chapter!!! I also like seeing people's thoughts on who they think is going to die (ahah I'm terrible).  
> Honestly though, you don't even know how excited I get when I see that I've gotten a new comment. It's amazing


	4. Why We Can't Have Nice Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is a long piece of trash, I haven't even proofread it cause I just wanted to post it  
> I'm not really happy with how everything turned out but whatever

 

Hot packs, ibuprofen, and cups of caffeine and water were littered around Jeonghan, who laid miserably in bed. “Seungcheolll~” Jeonghan whined across the room, peeking his head from above the covers.

“Hmm?” Seungcheol glanced up from his work at his desk and looked back to see Jeonghan tossing around pitifully in his sheets, in Seungcheol’s bed. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t in his own bed since it was only about five feet away, but he didn’t particularly mind. At this point, the lines has blurred between what was his, Jeonghan’s, and theirs. Most nights Jeonghan fell asleep with him in his bed, so much that it didn’t really feel like _just_ Seungcheol’s bed anymore. It was more like SeungcheolandJeonghan’s.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Jeonghan moaned. He’d started to have another one of his chronic migraines after school, but thankfully it was a Friday and he could lay down while Seungcheol was able to take care of him (much to Seungcheol’s delight). The boy loved to be pampered and would soak up any drop of attention that Seungcheol offered him. 

Seungcheol rubbed his forehead wearily. Jeonghan was going to end up giving _him_ a migraine. “Take some more medicine,” he offered.

“I’ve tried everything, nothing works.” Jeonghan plopped back down in bed. “Hey, do you mind turning out your light? It hurts.” He looked at him with the most pitiful gaze that Seungcheol didn’t think he could ever deny. The boy’s hair had been haphazardly thrown up into a ponytail, strands flying, and he noticed he was paler than usual.

Seungcheol looked down at the notes he’d been studying under his desk lamp for his midterm on Monday. “I’m sorta busy and this is kinda important…”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!” called Seungcheol.

Jeonghan chucked a pillow across the room as the door opened, though missing far to the left. “Go away!” 

Seungcheol flashed him a “don’t be so rude” look, and Jeonghan groaned in return.

In the doorway appeared Junhui, who looked at the pillow with an offended look. “Um, you missed pretty badly, didn’t expect I was going to be attacked today.”

“Shut up, it’s hard being far away from the door. I thought you were Chan, sorry,” said Jeonghan.

“What about Chan?” asked Seungcheol with a confused expression. 

Jeonghan waved his hand around as if dismissing the thought. “Nothing, doesn’t matter.”

After his momentary confusion, Seungcheol told Junhui, “He’s sick.”

“Oh god, I feel nauseated, can you bring me the trash can—”

“You know what?” Seungcheol stood up, grabbing his materials. “I’m gonna go to the library and work, Jeonghan, you have Junhui here now, okay? Have fun!”

“You’re supposed to be supportive!” complained Jeonghan from his fortress of pillows and blankets.

“I’m going to go be supportive from the library!”

“I didn’t sign up for this!” Junhui shouted as Seungcheol closed the door on his way out.

He quickly grabbed a nearby trash bag and threw it at Jeonghan, who finally said, “Nevermind, false alarm.”

Junhui sighed and sat down on the bed across from him. “Are you okay though? You look like shit.”

Jeonghan glared at him, the sickness not making his eyes look any less intimidating. “Wow, thanks, did you come all the way here to insult me?” he said, sharp sarcasm evident in his voice.

 _Damn,_ Junhui thought. The devil really did come out when he was sick. “Actually, no. I just needed a break from Soonyoung, he won’t stop blasting SHINee… But really, are you okay? Is it really that bad this time?”

Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle at Soonyoung and his SHINee addiction. “I don’t even know how to explain the pain. I get them at least twice a week too. I’ve taken acetaminophen and ibuprofen and triptan, nothing works until they just go away on their own.”

“You know…” Junhui looked away stiffly as if afraid to say it. “Have you ever tried any other painkillers?”

Junhui had explained to him the other day about what Soonyoung was doing, and although Jeonghan thought it was risky, he saw the potential the business had. Ever the schemer, Junhui knew that Jeonghan would be on his side. 

“No… Does Soonyoung have some?”

“He’s got these fentanyl pills, they’re really strong painkillers though. And expensive,” he added.

“I don’t care,” Jeonghan replied off-handedly. “I have lots of money, as long as it will make the pain go away.” Of course, trust fund baby Jeonghan, whose parents owned a successful dental company. People liked to say that’s why he had such a perfect smile. Jeonghan hated his parents though, and took delight in wasting their precious money. From everything Junhui knew about them, he was surprised they hadn’t just completely abandoned Jeonghan by now. 

“I can go get it now, it’ll only take me around 15 minutes.”

“Sure, whatever.” After a second, Jeonghan added, “Before Seungcheol gets back.” He pointed over at his dresser vaguely. “My wallet’s over there, I have cash, just take it.”

Junhui nodded quickly and fought the urge to say something about Seungcheol. Was it really his place though? He didn’t know. So he left, and came back with drugs for Jeonghan to take and stuff under his mattress.

Jeonghan pecked a kiss on Junhui’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said, and Junhui left a few minutes later to get down to his room before curfew.

30 minutes passed until Seungcheol finally got back from the library, rubbing at his eyes and ready to go to bed. Jeonghan’s migraine had finally dissipated, slowly fading off just like every other time. “Come here, come here!” Jeonghan gestured for him to get in the bed, scooting over to make space for Seungcheol.

“Okay, hold on, I’m coming,” Seungcheol laughed out, taking off his shirt. Jeonghan gazed at him brushing his teeth shirtless through their open bathroom door, the golden bathroom light shining down on Seungcheol and pouring into the darkness of the bedroom. It was so domestic that Jeonghan thought he could actually throw up this time. He’d never been the one to believe in true romance or soulmates or any shit like that. But there was just something so sweet and stupid about the toothpaste hanging out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he tried to spit it out. After a few moments, he noticed Jeonghan staring and let out an embarrassed, flustered laugh, quickly wiping off the remaining toothpaste. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jeonghan asked innocently, a soft smile dancing on his lips.

Seungcheol flipped off the bathroom light, walked over, and climbed into bed, turning to face Jeonghan so that they were only inches apart. “Like you’re in love with me.”

“Hm, really? I hadn’t realized,” the boy replied, looking away. He loved him (or at least he thought so), but could he say it? (He didn’t know.)

Seungcheol could only smile. “What did Junnie want anyway?” he asked, head propped up against his hand. Jeonghan would readily admit he didn’t mind the teasing view of his chest above the covers.

What was he supposed to say? “Oh, not much, he just wanted to talk and get away from Soonyoung for a little bit,” Jeonghan said in the dark, with only the constant lull of the ceiling fan to ground him to wakefulness. The darkness made it easier to lie. His fingers laced through Seungcheol’s as he said it, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he laid against it, but at least he didn’t have to _look_ at him. And he decided that that was all Seungcheol needed to know.

 

\----------

 

The only way he could truly describe it was _high_. Higher than the redwood trees Joshua had taken him to in America, higher than the Lotte World Tower he’d pass on the bus to his parents’ office, higher than how he imagined Mingyu in stripper heels, higher, higher, high.

Had he ever felt this good? He hadn’t the moment he finally saw his little sister after almost a year when he came home for the winter holidays. He hadn’t when he’d had his first kiss, when he sneaked out at night and ran on purely adrenaline and alcohol, not even sex with Seungcheol. This was entirely new. This feeling wasn’t even in the same category.

And his throbbing headache was gone. He finally felt peace after several hours of nonstop pain. The drug was like a mantra, whispering, _calm calm calm calm_ to the deepest, darkest part of him that desired to be indulged. Jeonghan had been easily susceptible to that tiny part of him for most of his life, from stealing cars to kissing boys in public to piss off his parents to claiming the school’s golden boy for himself and endangering the poor boy’s reputation. Choi Seungcheol most of all. That was an irresistible indulgence, despite everything in Jeonghan that screamed _no, no, no, you’re everything he doesn’t need._ But his whole life was a series of instant gratifications and lovely addictions.

The enlightening experience didn’t last long. The high only lasted at most 30 minutes, and with it came a sweeping low that caught him by the feet, dragging him back down to Earth again. But he needed to feel it again. And there was only one thing to do, wasn’t there? To take more.

 

\----------

 

“You’ve got mail!” Jeonghan strode into their dorm and waved around a couple letters and a parcel, causing Seungcheol to look up from his game. “I was getting mine and saw yours on the counter too, so I took it.”

Seungcheol laughed incredulously. “You know stealing other people’s mail is a federal crime, right?”

“Oh please, I would never break the law like that.” Jeonghan smirked and plopped down at the end of Seungcheol’s bed. He didn’t want to know the number of rules Jeonghan had broken over his lifetime. “Anyway, your dad sent you a letter.” He flashed the white envelope at Seungcheol.

“Ugh,” he groaned, focusing his attention back on the game on his phone. “I don’t want to read it.”

Jeonghan crawled closer up the bed and took the phone out of his grasp, setting it down on the bedside table. “Well, _I_ certainly don’t want to read or see whatever my mother sent, so how bout we switch?”

They did this sometimes, when neither one of them wanted anything to do with their parents or whatever they deemed important enough to send. Their parents’ questionable parenting was always something the two had been able to connect over. “Okay. I always love reading Mrs. Yoon’s passive aggressive correspondence.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the idea of his mother. The woman really was a damn piece of work. “Then I guess I love your stern military man of a father’s writing too,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically. Jeonghan handed him the care package and letter his mother had sent and tore open Seungcheol’s mail.

Mrs. Yoon wrote discussing Jeonghan’s little sister’s recent achievements. Jeonghan joked that she was the only one in the family who hadn’t been tainted by his evil parents, and when Seungcheol had met her once in the summer, he found out Jeonghan was right. It was endearing to see how much the little girl loved her older brother, and she brought out a different side in Jeonghan that he had never seen before. He saw a semblance of it in the protective, teasing way he treated Chan. He continued to read when Jeonghan broke him out of his train of thought with a loud gasp and a growing smile.

“Seungcheol…!” Jeonghan threw his arms around Seungcheol in elation while he remained baffled and confused. 

“What? What is it!” Seungcheol started chuckling at Jeonghan’s reaction. _This must be good,_ he thought.

“Remember the college you really wanted to go to, the one in America?”

“Yeah… Princeton?”

“Princeton!” Jeonghan smiled brightly, pride evident. “Your father got their letter back. They accepted you!”

At first, Seungcheol was stunned into silence. “Holy shit.” 

“Holy shit!” Jeonghan gave him a quick kiss on the lips, the sweetest victory kiss he had ever tasted. “I knew they’d want you, you’re smart and athletic and perfect.”

“So are you.”

“Are you going to go?” 

“I can’t really say no to this, can I?” said Seungcheol.

Deep down, Jeonghan wanted to scream at Seungcheol not to go. Not to leave him. He was torn between staying in the comfort of the only world he had ever known, Korea, or the wide expanse of the rest of the world. On the other hand, Seungcheol was set on going to school in America. 

He had a sinking feeling that after this year, they’d be separated forever. Seungcheol would forget about him in less than a year while Jeonghan studied in Seoul, and soon he’d find a nice girl to replace him. That’s why he liked to avoid the harsh reality of the not-so-distant future, but there was only so far you could go ignoring it.

But he couldn’t pressure him into not going. He couldn’t crush his dreams like that. And Jeonghan knew that if he tried, Seungcheol would absolutely stay and do whatever he could to make him happy. He’d give up his own happiness for him. 

“Yes, you should definitely say yes.” Jeonghan beamed, perfectly happy, like there was nothing at all amiss. Of course, his brain was yelling something entirely different.

“I guess I’ll write him back tomorrow.”

“What did my obnoxious mother send me in the parcel?” asked Jeonghan, switching topics.

Seungcheol tore open the seal and bit back his laughter, hiding the box’s contents from Jeonghan.

The boy rolled his eyes again. “Oh god.”

“Here we have… Some Axe deodorant!”

Jeonghan’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Ugh, how manly. They really don’t know me at all, do they?”

“I think they know who they _want_ you to be,” said Seungcheol.

“A son like you, honestly. Take it, I don’t want that shit.” Then he added, “On a second note, throw it away, cause I think I’d die if you smelled like that.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but agreed, chucking the deodorant in the trash can and moving on to the next item. “Oh! Kerastase shampoo!”

Jeonghan snatched it out of his hands greedily. “Finally, something that I actually need! And Seungcheol, I forbid you from ever using this bottle like the last one,” he threatened. 

Seungcheol threw his hands up in defense and laughed, making his eyes crease. “Fine! What happens if I _do_ use it?”

“No sex for a month,” said Jeonghan without missing a beat.

“A _month_? That’s a bit extreme.”

“You using my shampoo is extreme,” he pointed out.

“It smells so good though!”

“A month.”

Seungcheol groaned. “Fine… She also bought you ramen and strawberry milk.” He knew how much the boy was obsessed with those drinks. Jeonghan’s eyes widened in delight and immediately broke open a bottle.

“Oh my god, you’re an addict,” he said, amazed at how quickly he was slurping it down.

Jeonghan pouted at him cutely with the Binggrae up to his lips. “It’s just so good!” Then he began to throw the rest of the drinks and ramen in their bottom drawer, filled up with various snacks. 

Jeonghan gestured toward the paper still in Seungcheol’s hands. “What did she say in the letter?”

“She uh…” Seungcheol’s eyes quickly scanned the rest of the letter and Jeonghan caught his eyes widening.

“What?”

“She’s uh, getting a divorce.” Seungcheol looked up nervously and handed him the letter.

 _“What?”_ His face dropped when he read it, followed by a quick smile (which didn’t fool Seungcheol). “Whatever! Maybe they’ll act less fucking crazy when they’re not around each other now.” He tossed his letter to the floor behind him. “Anyway, today’s about you, okay!”

His over-the-top energy scared Seungcheol. He didn’t have to act so composed all the time like a plastic Barbie doll. Most people had never seen Jeonghan open up and confide in anyone so they joked he had no soul, but Seungcheol had seen it, Seungcheol loved it. “Jeonghan-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Maybe later.” He got up from the bed and acted composed as ever. “You stay right here, I’m going to go sweet-talk Jisoo into something.”

Seungcheol covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “That sounds dangerous, but okay.”

 

\----------

 

Out of anyone in the school, devout, shining boy Jisoo would be a prefect. Basically, he had a high leadership position around the school and was supposed to serve as a role model for the other students. Of course, along with the title also came some very nice, special privileges. He had access to nearly all of the rooms and facilities on campus with a single key, and he hid it intentionally away from the others, though sometimes Jeonghan was able to convincingly talk him into using it for them. 

“Jisoo, please, you _have_ to, for Seungcheol! A ‘you-just-got-accepted-to-college’ party!”

“Ah, are we making parties for every single event we can think of a reason to get drunk for now?” asked Jisoo with a wry smirk.

 _Yes,_ he thought, _obviously._ “Ugh, but that’s not the _point!_ It would really mean a lot, you know. Plus its been a while since we all had fun together.”

Jisoo sighed and shook his head. “Fine, we can do it. But this is for Seungcheol! Not you.”

Jeonghan tipped his head back and laughed in return. “Whatever you say, Joshuji. I’ll make sure to let everyone know.”

He let everyone know in a group text, everyone except for Seungcheol. 

“Seungcheol!” When he got back to their room, he pulled Seungcheol up from his spot in bed. “We’re going somewhere!” Jeonghan looked down at his clothes, a shirt and athletic shorts, and deemed it would be fine.

“Huh? I was so comfy,” he moaned, pulling away from Jeonghan.

The younger boy ran over to his closet and pulled out a black scarf, wrapping it around Seungcheol’s eyes to blind him.

“What—What the hell Jeonghan? What did you and Jisoo do?” he said as Jeonghan tightened a knot at the back of his head and began to push him out the door.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon!”

“Why did you have to make it a secret?”

“I don’t know, cause I can?” Seungcheol could see Jeonghan’s wicked smile without even looking.

“You’re ridiculous, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol’s hand and led him forward and out of their room. “Shh… Keep walking with me!”

Seungcheol sighed in protest but gave up his line of questioning. He didn’t know where exactly they were going, but he knew they were going down flights of steps to somewhere across campus. Other than that, he had no idea.

After many dangerous tumbles and nearly disastrous falls, Jeonghan pushed open a final door and stopped him in the doorway. “Okay, we’re here.”

“Congratulations!” A chorus of voices echoed throughout the room and through Seungcheol’s ears. He recognized them instantly. 

He pulled the blindfold down. As his eyes adjusted to the welcomed brightness, he found himself in front of glittering aqua water that begged to be jumped into. They’d made their way to the school’s indoor pool, which was exclusively reserved for the swim team and school prefects. He connected the dots and mentally made a note to thank Jisoo later.

Across the pool the rest of the boys stood and laid out on pool chairs. He was amazed by the amount of alcohol stacked on their circle table. Soonyoung yelled at him to come over as several of the other boys shouted out varying exclamations of praise. 

He turned to Jeonghan, who was smiling brightly at his side. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know how you did all of this. God, I want to kiss you so bad.”

The younger boy bit his soft bottom lip, only making Seungcheol want to kiss him more. But no, he couldn’t do it. Not in front of everyone. Not with what seemed like the entire world watching them in that moment.

”You’re welcome,” he whispered back. Jeonghan gestured for them to go meet up with the rest, and Seungcheol obliged. 

As Seungcheol got closer, he saw all the weed laid out on the table where Hansol sat, intently wrapping the weed on rolling papers into blunts.

”We’ve discovered little Hansollie has a talent!” said Soonyoung, walking over to where Seungcheol stood in front of the table.

Jihoon tipped his head back and laughed in disbelief. “The freshmen…”

”Hey! It’s never too early to learn! Plus, he’s hella good,” Soonyoung remarked.

Seungcheol picked up a joint and rolled it between his fingers. It had been wrapped perfectly, rolled tight like only slim, graceful fingers could do. Soonyoung passed a lighter and Seungcheol flicked it on, watching the small flame dance and lick up the edges of the joint. A sharp inhale and the calming smoke swirled around in his lungs until he released it in a slow exhale. He could feel his nerve endings beginning to settle. 

“Not bad, Hansol,” he said, smiling as he slapped the boy on the back.

”Thanks, hyung.” 

”Now, where’s the damn music?” 

Soonyoung pointed over to where Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Minghao were fighting over an iPhone. Seungkwan wanted to hear his favorite new OSTs, Mingyu wanted to listen to  
the songs from this season’s Show Me the Money, and Minghao wanted to teach them about _real music_ , C-pop.

Seungcheol looked over from where the kids were bickering to find Junhui holding the speaker next to Jeonghan. Jeonghan crinkled his noise at the Kris Wu song that began to blare, so they pressed the skip button on the speaker, causing Junhui to chuckle evilly as shouts of protest rose from the younger boys. “You just skipped Kris Wu!”

“Noooo, if you’re gonna play Chinese music, at least play some Nick Chou, Vinida, or Zitao!” Junhui objected.

“Personally, I think Higher Brothers and all of 88rising is the best,” said Hansol from where he sat at the table making more blunts, but nobody seemed to hear him.

“I think I’ll die before the time they agree on something,” Seungcheol said beside Jeonghan, shaking his head at the commotion. 

Jeonghan agreed. “Just play something I can get drunk to!” Jeonghan unscrewed the cap to a bottle of vodka and took a long swig. “Ah, that’s more like it.” The boy took his shirt off and walked over to the pool. As he was preparing to get in, Seungcheol crept up behind him and pushed him over the ledge with a quick shove. Jeonghan let out a surprised shriek and in his fall grabbed a hold of whatever his hands could grasp, which happened to be Seungcheol’s shirt, bringing him crashing down into the cold water with him. 

A flurry of laughter broke out as the two tumbled into the pool and their reactions to the water temperature. “Choi Seungcheol!” Jeonghan yelled, pushing his long wet hair out of his face, “You bastard!” Seungcheol cackled as he began to get sloshed with even more water to the face. Of course, he retaliated with equally strong attacks as the younger boy playfully shouted back. 

Then Dokyeom and Soonyoung and soon others jumped (or carefully stepped in, toe by toe) into the water, playing games and messing around. 

After Jeonghan and Seungcheol had come to a stalemate in their water fight, Jeonghan stood shivering in the water and they both hopped out to go sit by the pool chairs where Chan sat, laughing at the spectacle of the boys in the pool. Seungcheol grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Jeonghan to warm up his cold shivers, which Jeonghan thanked him for.

Chan and Jeonghan exchanged a fleeting _look_ , one Seungcheol couldn’t decipher, so he decided to grab more alcohol instead. 

They’d had their conversation about a week ago, Chan had promised not to say anything despite his anger, and the two had been silently dancing over the fact for a whole week. They acted like nothing was wrong, or tried to, and no one had picked up on enough of their cues to call them out on it.

Seungcheol came back with a solo cup filled with alcohol, which he thought was probably better than Jeonghan just drinking it out the neck.

The youngest watched Jeonghan swallow down his cup in a few gulps in amazement. “Hyung!”

“Hmm?” He looked up from his now empty cup, and Chan could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. “You want some?”

Chan’s eyes grew wide and he shook his hands as he stuttered, “No—no, I’m not old enough for—”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes in response. “C’mon, none of us our saints here, just relax. You deserve to have some fun.” He jumped up to pour himself another generously full cup and began pouring some into another cup for Chan, when Seungcheol grabbed onto his wrist and sat the liquor back down. 

“Woah there, that’s enough for him,” said Seungcheol, sipping a sizable portion of Chan’s drink before handing the cup to Chan. The boy stared into the bottom of his cup, scrutinizing the white plastic, until he finally shot back his cup and swallowed the burning liquor. Jeonghan giggled at Chan’s disgusted expression and the coughing that ensued. 

“I can’t believe you’re corrupting your adopted child,” said Seungcheol, who shook his head.

Jeonghan tsked him and said, “It’s just a little vodka, nothing he can’t handle.” Chan nodded from above his cup and took another sip, the alcohol sliding down his throat easier. The burn wasn’t too bad if he just did it quickly and didn’t think about it. He started to feel a slight tingle in his fingertips, which grew to an underlying thrum as he swallowed down more. As Seungcheol looked away to talk to Soonyoung across the table, Jeonghan poured more of his cup into Chan’s.

Chan silently thanked him like he did all the rest of their silent communication that week and gulped down more, more, and more, until he realized his cup was already empty. Hadn’t it just been full?

Jeonghan shouted at Mingyu over the thundering bass to be careful as Mingyu lightheartedly held a bottle of fireball in the pool that was being passed around. The glass bottle of liquor was in the hands of the clumsiest boy he’d ever met.

Junhui muttered something to Wonwoo on the pool chair next to him that Mingyu was definitely going to drop it, causing Wonwoo to laugh in between puffs. “Mingyu, come here, I want some of that fireball!” Junhui called out from his spot beside the pool.

As Mingyu bounded out of the pool, Junhui whistled jokingly at his supermodel-level torso and dripping idol-like locks which no one could deny.

“Yah, how can you look like that when I’ve never seen you work out?” said Seungcheol before snapping his lighter to smoke another blunt, eyes getting hazier by the minute, even though he was known for being able to hold his substances well.

Mingyu shrugged, ears turning slightly red in embarrassment as Junhui sidled up to him to the flow of the Vava song pumping through the nearby speaker. Junhui placed his hands on either side of Mingyu’s shoulders when Mingyu poured some of the bottle into Junhui’s mouth, who giggled when some of the cinnamon liquor missed his mouth and tricked down his chin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Mingyu caught Wonwoo glaring at them from his seat with a tightly clenched jaw, before he moved over to Seungcheol and accepted another joint from him.

Mingyu resisted rolling his eyes at Wonwoo. Wonwoo had no claim on Junhui, no one had a claim on him, and it especially would never be Wonwoo if he didn’t man up and make a move. It’s not like he wanted to intentionally provoke Wonwoo, but he couldn’t resist wiping his thumb across Junhui’s chin and collecting the whisky on his skin. The bitter chemical taste burned on his tongue when he brought his thumb up to his lips.

He knew the liquid courage was working when Junhui pulled himself closer to Mingyu, swaying along with the beat and gazing up at him through his soft lashes, and Mingyu went with it and followed suit.

_Sorry, Wonwoo._

Jisoo got out of the pool with Dokyeom and sat down by Seungcheol and Jeonghan so that he could see what was about to begin.

Chan was now fully intoxicated, much to Jisoo’s dismay, and had started a rap battle with Seungkwan, facilitated by Dokyeom. They were all varying levels of drunk, Seokmin about to fall asleep (Jeonghan bet five minutes, Seungcheol bet ten), Seungkwan’s face growing red (how much due to the alcohol, his own excitement, or Chan’s disses, no one knew), and Chan’s cup was sloshing a bit over the sides every time he staggered (his hyungs were prepared to pull him back before he got too close to the edge of the pool). 

Jeonghan giggled in between sips of soju from his front-row pool chair between Jisoo and Seungcheol when Chan started slurring in the middle of his diss rap.

“Someone should really stop him—,” Jisoo muttered lowly, which only Jeonghan and Seungcheol could catch.

Jeonghan waved his hands as if to say that was nonsense. “Let the kid be.”

“Cheol?” Jisoo prompted, and Seungcheol was torn between siding with his grudge-holding lover and his rational, moral friend. In the end, he just shrugged his shoulders and continued to drink. Over the years, he’d learned it was best not to take sides when it came to these mischievous, cunning people.

“Yo!” Chan half-shouted, the noise reverberating throughout the pool room. 

Hansol and Minghao grinned from the edge of the pool and served as the hype men as Dokyeom started to beat box miserably. “Ayyee!”

“Yo! Boo Seungkwan! I’m about to roast you in front of all these dumbasses! You think you’re so smart, but who’s the freshman in AP classes? If you can’t see I’m the best here I think you need some new glasses…” Chan’s lips tugged into a lopsided smirk at Seungkwan’s expression, jaw about to touch the floor and fanning himself with his hand vigorously. 

“Boo Seungkwan! Hwaiting!” Hansol shouted encouragements from the sideline with a million dollar smile, and it looked like Seungkwan was going to drop down on one knee right then and there. 

Jeonghan flicked his eyes over at Seungcheol in their silent, secret language. _Those two definitely need to fuck._

Seungcheol’s mouth curved slightly, which only Jeonghan could interpret as, _Don’t you dare do anything stupid, but yeah, okay, you’re right._

Seungkwan hastily grabbed a wet pool noodle out of the water to use as his microphone, shaking it off directly in front of Chan. The younger boy yelled at him in retaliation for getting him soaked again and was about to throw his drink back at Seungkwan, until Dokyeom pulled him back.

“Oh please, do you really want to pretend?” boasted Seungkwan into his pool noodle with faux swag. “You aren’t on my level, can you even comprehend? You’re such a baby, I feel bad if I offend.. You can’t contend with your hyungs, I bet you’ll never get a girlfriend!”

“Oooh!” A wave of exclamations rose at Seungkwan’s comeback, half of them shocked that such sharp words could form in their darling maknaes’ mouths. 

“I think you’re rubbing off a bit too much on your protege,” Wonwoo whispered across the table to Soonyoung, who was grinning almost as intensely as Jihoon between them was sighing in disapproval.

“I’ve been teaching Seungkwan important life skills!” Soonyoung raised his hands in defense with a despicable look, not letting go of the blunt in his right hand.

Jihoon crossed his arms and looked over to Seungkwan and Chan, as the younger boy recovered from the rough blow, and scoffed, “What, how to sell drugs?”

“How to be a good businessman! It’s not like this school offers any good business or marketing classes…” he mumbled under his breath.

Wonwoo wanted to laugh out loud at the situation but kept on his constant straight face of uninterest. They were selling illegal drugs and having drunk rap battles in a locked up pool? Somehow it seemed so unrealistic but completely like them. They were all somewhat crazy or wild, even the ones like Jihoon who was constantly scolding them, deep down, got off on the entertainment. He made sure to slip some more of the joints off the table in his pocket, not like he thought Soonyoung would mind, but he did it while the other two weren’t paying any attention anyway. 

Meanwhile, Chan mentally prepared for his response and quickly swallowed a large gulp of his cup. He could barely feel the burn in his throat now so it didn’t feel painful anymore, but a tiny part of his stomach felt sick. His fingers were more than tingling now, was that normal? Oh god, his head started to feel fuzzy, and, uh, he was gonna rap about this alcohol sloshing in his hand, why couldn’t he just stand still? What rhymes with fireball? Downfall, meatball, oh, Seungcheol!

“Okay, okay, are you ready?” he choked out forcefully. He hoped the sickness in his stomach wasn’t beginning to show, or that would be more embarrassing than when Jeonghan introduced Chan to his history class as his baby. “Yah, you call me a baby, but I can handle Jeonghan’s fireball—”

“Barely handling,” Junhui quietly snickered beside Mingyu, and Mingyu did his best to fight a smile. He really had the worst poker face.

“—And who here has a current girlfriend? You’re wrong if you think it’s Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol furrowed his brows and tilted his head at Chan’s comment, thinking, _Where the hell is he going with that?_ Several of the other boys looked confused as well, and prompted Chan to go on, as if he’d soon reveal the next line that would make everything make sense. 

Chan thought it was pretty good he’d managed to come up with rhymes for every word so far, but now his head was getting foggier and he was running out of two-syllable words that end in ‘-all’… “Well, I mean, he could pass as a girlfriend, but just cause you have long hair doesn’t make you a girl so overall…” He was drunk rambling, wasn’t he? Whoops. But I mean, technically this was Jeonghan’s fault.

“What are you talking about?” interjected Minghao. The color was already beginning to drain from Seungcheol’s face.

“Honestly the fact that you’ve managed to hide it this long is honestly amazing Jeonghan-hyung,” Chan drawled off, the words sizzling out on his lips as he noticed Jeonghan’s mortified expression.

Despite Jeonghan’s earlier warning, Mingyu was the one to drop the bottle of fireball as the glass shattered into a heap of shrieking shards and golden liquid that flowed through the cracks in the tile floor.

Wonwoo looked over at Seungcheol slowly, trying to piece together Chan’s drunken puzzle pieces and read Seungcheol’s face to see if the picture really did match up. But anyone could read Seungcheol’s fish-out-of-water look and how he sat perfectly still, afraid to do anything. Jeonghan beside him wasn’t much better, his shoulders slumped and head lowered as if his long curtain of hair would really hide the truth that was just laid bare in front of all thirteen of them.

While Wonwoo was able to formulate his assumptions quietly, Soonyoung was a little slower, and a lot more audible about it. “Wait… are you guys fucking?”

Seungcheol snapped his head up at that, wide, darting eyes making contact with Soonyoungs’. He looked like a baby deer caught in the headlines, so terrified, so afraid. And despite being the oldest, deep down, he was still a little boy. “Soonyoung—”

“Yes,” whispered Jeonghan from his curtain of protection, surprising Seungcheol. He hoped no one could see how hard he was biting his lips, because when he pulled his trembling finger away from his lips he noticed a smear of red. 

_Oh shit,_ Jeonghan could hear Hansol distantly, who sounded as if he was a thousand miles away. All he could focus on was the quickened breathing of Seungcheol inches away. The string connecting them had just been pulled taut, but the line between him and everyone else has grown exponentially as a result.

Most of all, he was terrified to look to his right, where his best friend sat in shock at his betrayal. He could let it slide with the others, but with Jisoo? They had been connected since the beginning, way before Seungcheol entered the picture. Had he really just fucked up the closest friend he’d ever had the gift of knowing? But he loved Seungcheol too. 

“Channie… What the _fuck_?” Was anger the next step of grief? Or was he still in denial? Jeonghan wasn’t sure. Projecting his anger though, god, was he turning into his mother?

“M’ sorry Jeonghan… I just, I don’t know, it came out,” stumbled Chan, Jisoo gracefully leading him down to sit on the pool chair with him and pulling the solo cup out of his grasp.

“He’s _drunk,_ Jeonghan, and need I remind you who got him that way,” Jisoo snapped. His sharp words made Jeonghan visibly flinch.

Jeonghan stayed silent, at a loss for words. He was stupid to believe any secrets could last in this damn prison.

“So are you two dating?” Mingyu cautiously whispered, fiddling with his fingers as if he was afraid of the response he would get back.

Seungcheol looked over at Jeonghan, whose shaking hands he wished he could grab and kiss a thousand times. Jeonghan looked up at him, scared eyes reflecting back into scared eyes. Seungcheol knew Jeonghan didn’t know what he wanted and was scared to call what was between them ‘love’, probably because of some complex his parents gave him, but he knew his feelings were genuine. Seungcheol, on the other hand, was head-over-heels, would commit murder, would swim in a sea of sharks, for Jeonghan. 

“Yeah, we are,” Seungcheol said firmly. “And if you have a problem with it, you can take it up with me.”

Some of the boys nodded and one spoke up about how they should go. Jeonghan’s lips pressed tightly together as each group of boys came up with poor excuses to leave and pathetic good nights.

Eventually Jisoo stood up and grabbed Chan with him, throwing a supportive arm around his waist. “I’m taking him back to bed.”

“I’m sorry hyung, you probably hate me for forever now—”

“I don’t hate you,” Jeonghan spoke softly, “I could never hate you, okay?” He tried to make a sad excuse of a smile as Chan gulped and nodded in understanding before he was whisked away.

“Come on, you’ve got to take this shit back,” said Jihoon to Soonyoung, the only two left besides Seungcheol and Jeonghan. He gestured toward the well-stocked table of weed and liquor bottles. By the time they’d collected it all and make their way out the passageway door, tears were streaming down Jeonghan’s cheeks.

The ripples of light in the pool water reflected onto Jeonghan’s face as the tears fell, which Seungcheol thought made Jeonghan look even more exquisite. “Baby…” he muttered, bringing his lips up to Jeonghan’s cheeks and kissing each rolling tear on his lips and tasting the salty sweet sadness. He pulled back to cup Jeonghan’s face between his hands as Jeonghan’s sobs grew harder. It was as if all the pain that had been bottled up in a little jar inside the boy had been released into a great tidal wave. 

“Hey, hey, look at me! It’s gonna be okay,” Seungcheol promised, directly into Jeonghan’s wet eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay, don’t worry, the boys will all get over it quickly, they’re just shocked, that’s all.”

“I guess.. guess so,” Jeonghan sniffled, wanting to look away so Seungcheol wouldn’t have to see him ugly and crying like this. 

They laid back against the pool chair, and Jeonghan could feel the plastic strips digging into the back of his skin, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed the discomfort, it felt like a small punishment he was meant to deserve. Besides, not only had he lied to all his friends, but he hadn’t even told Seungcheol about the drugs yet.

After a while of silence that finally allowed Jeonghan to calm down and compose himself, he whispered, “Do you think with this whole divorce, my father will leave, and I’ll be forced to live with my mother alone?”

Honestly, Seungcheol didn’t have a right answer. Judging from what he knew about Jeonghan’s family, he was probably right. He also knew how crazy his mother was, and how bad if would be if his father left for good.

“I don’t know, but you don’t have to live with her ever again. You can live with me after we graduate, I don’t care where it is, or whether you go to college or not, I won’t let you go back to that house,” said Seungcheol.

“What about Haewon?” said Jeonghan, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of his shorts. “I can’t just leave her there.”

His little sister. Of course. “We’ll take her too.” That was a promise he knew he probably couldn’t keep, but he felt the need to say it anyway.

Jeonghan laughed softly, “We both know that’s impossible.”

“Yeah, and you said me climbing our three story dorm building for the first time as a sophomore was impossible, but here we are.”

Jeonghan was so exhausted that he was unable to formulate any sort of quality response, and instead chose to lay quiet and bask in the shimmering pool reflection.

 

\----------

 

“Come on,” Jihoon beckoned in the doorway of the room filled with drugs.

“Huh?” Soonyoung looked up from the stacks behind the old desk. “Where are we going?”

“The roof, I don’t want to go back now,” he said, swiping a half-empty bottle of Jack off the desk and flicking off the light switch, forcing Soonyoung to follow.

“You should have kept the light on, you know I hate the dark down here,” Soonyoung grumbled and reached out for Jihoon’s hand in the dim light to lead them in the right direction. 

After making one right, two lefts, and another right up two flights of stairs, Jihoon snapped a latch off a window panel and pushed the panel up with a surprising amount of strength for his small body. The night air immediately rushing in to greet them and Soonyoung’s lungs embraced it. Jihoon crawled up first and scooted over so that Soonyoung could plop down next to him and hand over the bottle of alcohol.

It was certaintly dark here, but a welcome dark. The harrowing underground passages underneath the school suffocated Soonyoung, but under the great expanse of the night sky and faint white specks of stars, Soonyoung could finally breathe.

And he really needed to breathe after that whole fiasco.

“Do you really think you’re going to be able to sell all of those drugs without being caught?” Jihoon asked abruptly, like the thought had been on his mind for some time. 

“I think so, it seems to be working well so far…” he replied cautiously.

Jihoon’s eyes flashed some emotion Soonyoung couldn’t decipher. Finally, he broke his silence, “I’m worried.”

Soonyoung chuckled nervously, the conversation getting too serious for his liking. “Worried? About what? Don’t be.”

“I’m worried about you,” said Jihoon flatly.

He wished he could agree that there was nothing to worry about. “Just this whole shipment, I’ll get it all sold, and then I’ll be done, I promise.”

He noticed Jihoon’s jaw tense in the moonlight. “Whatever you say.”

Soonyoung didn’t know how to respond.

“What you said back there was really fucking eloquent, dumbass,” Jihoon spoke, breaking the silence. 

Soonyoung sighed. Okay, that may not have been one of his proudest moments. “I still can’t believe Seungcheol and Jeonghan are together…” 

Jihoon began to cackle, and Soonyoung was worried that the boy would start shaking so hard he’d tumble down the roof and fall to his death. “Seriously? Am I the only one here?” He started.

“Huh? How did you know?” Soonyoung exclaimed.

“Oh my god, they’re so fucking obvious! They eye-fuck the hell out of each other in every single public situation. And they always make lame excuses to get themselves with each other in private,” said Jihoon. “I feel bad for Chan though… I don’t know how he found out originally but it probably wasn’t very pretty.”

“Wow… You’re right. But how could you have possibly noticed those things?” said Soonyoung, taking a sip of Jihoon’s liquor and passing the bottle back to him, who accepted it with a long chug.

The smaller boy wiped the liquor off his lips and gave a soft smile. “Hey, before there was Chan, I was Jeonghan’s baby. I’ve known him long and closely enough that I can read him like a book.” 

Soonyoung laughed out into the night, which felt so revealing, yet so concealing. He was laughing in front of the whole world with no barriers, and yet the world was silent and slumbering, with only one boy with neon yellow hair listening. “Can you read me?”

Jihoon looked at him studiously for a moment and paused. His answer was tightly clipped. “Yes.”

“What can you tell?” Soonyoung couldn’t resist the smirk growing on his face.

Jihoon tried to look annoyed, but he just looked like his thoughts were pulling him back and forth between the truth. “You look like an idiot. An idiot that wants to kiss me because he thinks he’s in love but actually has no concept of how—”

Soonyoung shook his head. _He_ was the idiot? Yeah, right. He gave up all impulse control and reached forward, pulling Jihoon’s lips against his. Jihoon quickly gave up his surprised mumbles of protest and succumbed to the kiss, letting Soonyoung take control and deepen the kiss, tasting the bitter alcohol on both their mouths. They broke apart abruptly to take in a breath of air and let the fact settle of what they had just done.

“It was good, wasn’t it,” Soonyoung goaded, smirking unabashedly.

“It was okay,” huffed Jihoon, crossing his arms and pulling them up against his chest. The night wind was beginning to grow cold, and not even the alcohol in his system or the intense kiss could keep him warm.

“It was totally amazing.”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reaching the end lol!!!  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated and make my day (:
> 
> Also if you don't listen to chinese hip hop....... what are you doing son


	5. Something is in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are weird after last night and Dokyeom wants to fix that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't proofread this yet but just bare with me ok  
> School is kicking my ass so I haven't found a ton of time to write this sorry

 

Breakfast the next morning was slightly awkward, to say the least.

Showing up to dining hall times was mandatory. If it was only optional, over half of them definitely wouldn’t be there. 

Dokyeom had always been a happy-go-lucky guy. The sunshine, the light-bringer of their group. But he didn’t think any amount of bright smiles and corny jokes could diffuse the current black rain clouds looming directly over their table. No one wanted to talk about last night’s events. In fact, no one wanted to talk at all. Until everything just exploded up like a geyser, spitting out all their silently internalized emotions.

“I forgot to grab a fork,” Mingyu mumbled, setting aside his napkin and ungracefully stood up, too abruptly, causing his hip to hit the table and shake all the plates. Dokyeom grimaced as Jeonghan forcefully gripped his orange juice that was precariously quivering. 

Jeonghan pushed back the blonde hair falling into his face, the strands slightly greasier than normal. It was clearly not his best day. That was also judging from how the boy had brought his glass down into his lap and begun to pour clear liquid from a small bottle he’d pulled out of his pocket into his drink. 

“Jesus, Jeonghan, are you a functioning alcoholic now?” Jihoon pointed his cereal spoon at Jeonghan in disbelief. The milk dripped down from his spoon into the bowl, and Dokyeom counted each drip, considering it was probably a better thing to focus on than the surrounding fight that was about to ensue.

“Actually, _yes,_ Jihoon, if you consider hangover mimosas for alcoholics.” Jeonghan plucked Jihoon’s spoon from his grasp, wiped off the remaining milk with his mouth, and swirled the spoon in his orange juice to mix the liquid.

“Mingyu!” Jihoon shouted and gestured across the cafeteria, loud enough for Mingyu to turn his head around in surprise. “Get me a fucking spoon too!”

Mingyu raised his hand back in salute, and Minghao looked almost embarrassed at how the tall, awkward beanstalk shot out painfully amongst the large crowd.

He returned with another spoon and fork, sitting down and nearly bumping into the table again. “Ooh hyung, orange juice! They ran out this morning, and I wanted some so bad.” He snatched the glass from across the table and began to swallow the drink down.

“Um—”

“Eugh!” Mingyu crinkled his nose and Jeonghan rolled his eyes at his expected reaction. 

“Too much for you?” he teased, grabbing the glass back from Mingyu, who was glad to return it.

“I mean, it wasn’t _bad,_ it’s just definitely not what I expected to taste,” said Mingyu. 

“That’s what you get for trying to contaminate my drink, Germgyu,” Jeonghan replied between sips of his drink.

“Seriously, I’m not _that_ bad, aish!”

Junhui looked up from his bugeotguk and scowled, disgust etched onto his typically smooth features. “Mingyu, you literally sneezed into your hand and touched my hair right after in class the other day.”

“Okay, look—”

“You’re really going to infect the whole school one day, Mingyu,” interjected Minghao.

“Hey! It’s almost Sunday!” Dokyeom spoke up, pulling himself out of the background to try and bless some light on the table’s acidic mood. “Be positive. All we have is Mass tonight and then we get to relax for all of Sunday.” 

“Ugh, Mass,” Junhui moaned, slumping his head down between his arms. “I can think of so many things I’d rather do than sit there for an hour and listen to that bullshit on my Saturday night.”

Jihoon scoffed from across the table. “More like _who_ you’d rather do.”

“You bitch!” Junhui gasped, as if scandalized. “But, actually, yes,” he laughed.

“Oh, who’s the new unfortunate victim?” said Soonyoung.

Junhui, daydreaming lazily, replied, “Ah… well there’s this guy in Economics, then this other one in Calculus? His name’s Changkyun? His eyebrow piercing, ooof, I never knew an eyebrow could turn me on so much.”

Soonyoung whipped his head over to Dokyeom at that point, mouth agape. _Im Changkyun!_ Soonyoung’s lips silently mouthed (or screamed), _Nooooooooo_. 

Yeah, Dokyeom definitely knew that wasn’t a good idea. They really didn’t need their older hyung/unofficial drug distributor involved with the younger brother of the guy who they were on rocky terms with, considering that he’d kill them if they fucked anything up. It sounded like the definition of disastrous. Also, he’d never admit it, but Changkyun sort of terrified him.

“You guys are so disrespectful, Mass isn’t that bad, and it’s important,” said Jisoo.

Junhui shook his head and drawled, “C’mon, Jisoo, there’s got to be _someone_ in this school you’d rather be fucking than attending church.”

Jisoo’s red blush crawled up his features in an instant, and he was turned into a stammering mess. “Uh—me? Haha, no, what are you even talking about?”

“Really? Nobody?” Seungcheol teased lightheartedly from beside Jeonghan, who was slowly growing a shit-eating grin.

“You guys are all delusional!” Jisoo protested among the many objections and teases his spectators were throwing him, face growing redder by the second as hewaved his hands in denial.

“Mmm hmm, Hong Jisoo, don’t pretend you’re not hiding something,” Junhui joked, but Dokyeom still caught the suspicious, devilish glimmer in his eyes.

Was Junhui right? Jisoo wouldn’t ever do anything bad. Or maybe he would. _Would_ he? Dokyeom had no idea.

 

\----------

 

After Jeonghan had gotten himself out of that painful breakfast session, he found himself rummaging through his dresser and shoving his clothes around for one small thing. You never really realize how much _shit_ you have until you try to find one specific thing, do you? He knew he’d stashed the the bottle of his parents’ Vicodin in here somewhere. Honestly, he deserved a break from the whole Seungcheol ordeal, his parents’ divorce that still stung like a fresh cut, and everything in between. The amount of shit he’d gone through recently was enough for him. 

That was a pro of having dentists for parents. Everyone knows those medical professionals are the ones who use illegal drugs the most. They have millions of bottles and prescriptions at their disposal, and they’re not stupid either, so it’s an easy trap. Of course, it’s easy for their rebellious teenagers to get it too. Was it really his fault? They made it too damn easy. Hell, it wasn’t like his mother didn’t abuse the tantalizing little pills too. 

He found the bottle deep inside of of his pairs of jeans and hastily unscrewed the lid. “Fuck!” he muttered down into the empty plastic bottle. He swore there’d been more in there last week. He tried shaking the bottle, but no more imaginary pills fell out. 

Then he remembered what Junhui had given him, ah yes, the tablets he’d shoved under the mattress. Thank God for Wen Junhui. Yes, that’s exactly what he should pray to God about during Mass. But every single Mass he silently prayed to somehow get out of this ridiculous school, and none of his prayers had ever been answered. 

Maybe his relationship with God wasn’t the best. Maybe it was because he was gay, or maybe because of the excessive lying, or maybe because he’d defied every rule set before him. Whatever. He could handle life without Him.

The tablet dissolved under his tongue like sugar, its sweetness rapidly extending to every corner of his body.

Time flew by, but Jeonghan had no idea where it’d been minutes or hours later when there was incessant knocking at the door. God, which of his children needed him _now?_ He wouldn’t have answered if it wasn’t for Mingyu’s unrelenting whines, but thankfully for him he was one of his favorites. 

“Mingyu~ What do you want?” he called.

“Ugh hyung, I need you! I’m dying!” said Mingyu through the door.

Was there really no one else in this school that was able to handle these kinds of things? This is what he got for being a good older brother. “Fine,” he said, pulling open the door and leaning against the doorframe. “Let’s go… outside! I want the fresh air.”

Mingyu gave him an odd look but nodded, extending his elbow for Jeonghan to accept and link arms. Jeonghan staggered slightly once he stepped away from her door into Mingyu’s arms, and Mingyu couldn’t hold back his confusion. “Jeonghan? Did you drink too much mimosa or something? I didn’t think it was that strong.”

“Mm… S’mthing like that,” Jeonghan slurred, leaning slightly onto Mingyu.

They walked out to the large field sprawled out down below the dorms, where soccer practice was being held. Mingyu followed Jeonghan as they treaded up the creaky metal bleachers on the sidelines. Mingyu wondered if this was a good idea when Jeonghan nearly tripped up one of the steps. 

They settled at the top of the bleachers and watched on as the upperclassmen boys warmed up with cone drills and goal shots. It was fascinating to observe the fluid movements of the players as they weaved throughout the field like liquid. Plus, watching hot guys work out was never dull entertainment.

“Are we even allowed up here during practice?” asked Mingyu, as Jeonghan leaned on him for support and laid his head on his shoulder, content to bask in the golden sun and Mingyu’s comfortable warmth. He decided this was the perfect way to enjoy his high, without a care in the world, and from the high bleachers, he felt like he was on top of the world. They bickered plenty, but the two always sought solace and support in each other. 

“Pfft, technically no, but they don’t really give a shit,” said Jeonghan, “I come up here all the time.” He suddenly started waving cutely, and Mingyu was confused until he followed the direction of Jeonghan’s affection down to the field where that other senior, Lee Minhyuk, stood sweaty and smiling.

“Ah, I see why now,” snidely replied Mingyu, gazing down to the lush verdant field.

Jeonghan’s head snapped up from its comfortable position to scold the younger boy. “Don’t even go there, Minhyuk and I are just friends.”

“And what does _Seungcheol_ think about Minhyuk?” Mingyu knew Minhyuk, had spoken to him once or twice when it was warranted, but their social circles hardly overlapped. Regardless, he knew the boy casually floated in and out of Jeonghan’s days from time to time. 

Cue a very Jeonghan eye-roll. “You know just because I let him fuck me, my world doesn’t revolve around Seungcheol, right? So he can make me come, that doesn’t make him Jesus,” he scoffed, curling the blonde wisps of his hair around his fingers in disinterest. 

Of course, Jeonghan knew exactly what Seungcheol thought of Minhyuk. There was a silent acknowledgement that Seungcheol disapproved. It was also obvious from the daggers Seungcheol shot with his broody eyes at the other, as he wrapped his arm around Jeonghan noticeably tighter.  
Yes, he was perfectly aware. He wasn’t sure if he gained _pleasure_ from it, but he enjoyed provoking Seungcheol into his possessive streaks, which turned him on. It was like an extended, never-ending game of voiceless cat-and-mouse where Jeonghan was guaranteed to end up in a bed by the end of every round. 

He wasn’t sure why they didn’t just officialize their relationship and acknowledge the fact that they were dating, making them exclusive. It was possibly due to the fact that Jeonghan was only slightly terrified of commitment. But the other logical explanation was that Seungcheol enjoyed the chase, too. He sought gratification out of it, even if he would never explicitly state it. Leaving the blanks unanswered on their relationship notched everything up to a heightened degree.

Jeonghan rubbed his temples and felt the dry taste in his mouth. “Fuck’s sake Mingyu, you’re ruining my high.”

“Are you high? I thought you were drunk,” asked Mingyu, noticing the flush blooming on Jeonghan’s skin.

“Am I what?”

“Nevermind…” Mingyu pulled out a box of Raisons from his back pocket and took out the lighter from his other. His fingers fumbled to open the package, grabbing a cigarette and catching it under the flame of his lighter. 

“You know… Those’ll kill you,” said Jeonghan smugly. “Or at least from what I’m told. You’ll get cancer, and then I’ll have to pay for all those bills until you die.”

“Ah, so you think you’re going to outlive me? Okay.” Mingyu laughed at the idea, taking a drag of the cigarette and blowing it out in the opposite direction of Jeonghan. “And you sound like Minghao, he’s always trying to get me to stop.”

“Hey, I’m different than Minghao, I’m not idiotic enough to try and convince you into stopping something I know you won’t.”

“Minghao’s not idiotic.”

“No, he’s not, but he is with you.”

“Hao?” asked Mingyu in disbelief. “I don’t think so. Actually, I actually wanted to talk to you about Junhui, not Minghao.”

Jeonghan sighed and slumped against Mingyu in staged-exhaustion. “You’re a idiot too.” 

“Um, excuse me?”

“You’re stupid, get the fuck over Junhui. He’s not who you want. Trust me, Junhui doesn’t even know what he wants—or at least he hasn’t seen it yet.”

“How do you know what I feel, hyung?” Mingyu protested, pouting, even though Jeonghan wasn’t looking at his expression.

“Maybe I don’t know exactly what you feel. But I think you’re in lust, not love, and let’s be real, everyone has been in Junhui Lust at some point. Instead… focus on the person that really loves you.”

Mingyu shook his head and lifted the cigarette up to his mouth again. His hand shook slightly as he brought it to his lips. _Exhale._ “No, no, if you’re implying Minghao loves me, you’re wrong.”

Jeonghan smirked, still watching the movement on the field as he treated Mingyu’s shoulder as a pillow. “It’s so obvious Minghao like you. Stop playing around with Junhui and appreciate the boy who actually deeply cares for you. Don’t fuck up a cute beautiful thing, okay? God knows we need it.”

“I don’t know…”

“Seriously, the kid offered to tutor you for free, Mingyu.”

“That’s what best friends do!”

“You’re truly blind, aren’t you? Just think about it. Try.”

“Fine, whatever,” Mingyu muttered, standing up from the bleachers and dropping the Raison to stub it out on the old, creaking metal with the hard sole of his dress shoe. “Have fun lusting after your boy toy while high, or whatever the hell you’re on. See you at five.”

“Asshole.” Jeonghan stretched out on the bleacher, legs propped out and back reclined.

“Love you.” Of course he did, no matter what, and Jeonghan knew it. Maybe Jeonghan was right, and Mingyu needed to recognize who else he truly loved.

 

\----------

 

The bell tolled throughout the school on the hour, ringing from the fields to the classrooms to the corridors with profound clangs.

Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Dokyeom stood in the vestry, peeking through the door as students began to pile into the aisles.

“Shit, tell me if anyone’s coming,” said Soonyoung, looking nervously at the door which Seungkwan was guarding, though it wasn’t like he could stop someone from coming in there if they really wanted to. 

“It shouldn’t take that long!” Dokyeom pointed out, looking over to where Soonyoung was pulling a small bag out of his pocket. “All you have to do is stick it in there, right? It doesn’t seem that hard.”

Soonyoung grumbled and looked up at Seungkwan, who was paying more attention to the dirt under his nails than the door. “Hey, if anyone’s coming, give me a code red or something.”

“Mmmm…” Seungkwan drawled in response, not even looking up from his nails to answer Soonyoung.

The situation was almost comical to Dokyeom, standing in front of the high-strung Soonyoung and the not-a-care-in-the-world Seungkwan. He just prayed their plan would work. If it did, they’d definitely be going down in Cheongju history.

It was actually mostly Dokyeom’s idea, after being a part of that painful, miserable breakfast and wishing that he could do anything to make everyone else a little happier. He couldn’t stand to see everyone all dismal.

“Oh! Oh! Red lipstick, make it more red. I put on red lipstick, I’m red~” Seungkwan frantically half-sung out of nowhere, moving this body through his hips.

Soonyoung stopped what he was doing and looked up at Seungkwan with his brows furrowed and eyes squinted. “What the fuck are you—”

Behind him, Dokyeom began to laugh loudly once he had caught on to whatever Seungkwan was doing, unable to stifle his giggles.

“A monkey’s butt is red~ Code red!”

“Red is Hyuna!” Dokyeom added, laughing, despite the nun approaching the door.

Thankfully, Soonyoung had finished and was stuffing the empty baggie back into his pocket when Sister Taeyeon opened the door, eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion. “What are you all doing back here..?”

Dokyeom broke out into his signature smile that was guaranteed to win anyone over. “There were Bibles missing in front of our seats, so we came here to grab some!”

“And where are the Bibles?” asked Sister Taeyeon.

“Well… We haven’t found them yet!” Dokyeom looked over to Seungkwan, his cheery smile not matching the anxiety shining in his eyes.

She looked unconvinced to say the least, but gestured over to the side cabinet. “In there.”

Seungkwan quickly grabbed three Bibles before Taeyeon ushered them out. “You better not have messed with anything in there,” she said, glaring specifically at Soonyoung. “Now please return to your seats before you miss the introductory litany.”

The three managed to scoot into their pew as soon as the rites were beginning. A chorus of voices mumbled greetings, which led into the Act of Penitence. Hansol said something about having no space now because of the three additions on the row, and Jihoon peered over in confusion. “What were you guys doing?”

Soonyoung smiled over at Jihoon smugly and threw his hands behind them on the edge of the pew, which just made Jihoon frown harder. “Don’t worry about it Jihoonie, we’re just trying to make everyone’s day a little better.”

“Why does that sound ominious?” Hansol whispered into Jihoon’s ear.

“I don’t like this,” he grumbled, but sat back to watch the oncoming show, because there was nothing else he could do about it.

Several seats down, Junhui leaned against Wonwoo, eyes already closed and drifting off, even though the Mass had only just started. Wonwoo just smiled at Junhui’s mouth hanging open as he started falling asleep. Beside them, Jisoo was one of the only people on their row actually singing the Gloria. Seungcheol leaned behind Jisoo and Minghao’s heads and caught Jeonghan’s eye. Jeonghan glanced back and they couldn’t help rolling their eyes at Jisoo’s “Glory to God in the highest!”

Father Woosung stood at the front, leading the students into their silent Opening Prayer. Minghao and Jisoo bowed their heads down but Seungcheol and Jeonghan kept their gaze, smiling at each other in the room of a thousand students, but it was gone unseen by every other person in the church. _Do we really have to do this shit every week,_ Jeonghan mouthed silently, to which Seungcheol replied, _We can do something more fun after._

Jeonghan smiled to himself, even after the silent prayer was over. They proceeded into the Liturgies, a series of Scripture readings, but he paid no mind. His eyes skimmed over the words of the Testament in his lap, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Mostly the drowsiness and slight nausea that was beginning to take over his body, probably because the drug had finally worn off.

He’d never really bought in to any of this religious stuff anyway, and neither had his parents. He thought they only sent him to Cheongju because it was the highest rated boarding school around. But if _this_ place was the so-called “best,” then he’d definitely pray for all the kids at the other Korean boarding schools. He could hear the Father droning on about praising God and how we’re all eternally grateful for our existence, but the readings flew by him in a blur of suffocating doctrines.

Before he knew it, he was standing up, automatically following Jisoo in the Communion line. The two lines moved quickly, but he was fidgety and exhausted. He opened out his tongue to take the wafer, tasting the bland wheat dissolve, and winced when his lips met the sour wine. “Amen,” he said, but immediately turned around to make a disgusted face at the taste and returned back to his row. Not too long now, and he could get this all over with.

Jihoon sat down next to him, shaking his head. “I think they did something stupid.”

“Um, who?” Jeonghan asked. “That leaves about eleven possibilities.”

Jihoon snorted but replied, “Soonyoung, Dokyeom, and Seungkwan.”

“Well, I’d expect nothing less from my young protégés,” said Jeonghan, waving it off as Jihoon being too worrisome. 

“You’re a horrible influence.”

He was right, and Jihoon didn’t even know half of it.

The liturgy continued with the clergy taking two thuribles designed to perfume the air with swaths of incense clouds. Personally, it always gave Jeonghan a headache, but it was supposed to represent God’s presence and sanctify the place, or something like that. The golden censers were intricately detailed, and suspended upon long chains that the clergy swung, allowing the incense to billow out.

All of a sudden, his nose was attacked by this strong acrid smell that emanated throughout the room, and he crinkled his nose in disgust. Jihoon was doing the same with a confused expression.

“What is that smell?” Minghao asked innocently, tugging his sweater down his hands and putting it up to his nose. 

On the other side, Seungcheol began laughing in disbelief, his soft eyes blown wide. “That’s fucking burnt weed!”

Then Jeonghan connected it, that ghastly burnt scent with the dirty skunk-like smell of weed. “Holy shit.”

The congregation of students began to erupt into laughter and awe as they all began to catch on. It was impossible to stop the burning, it wasn’t like the clergy could just remove the hot coals at the bottom of the thuribles with their bare hands and simply dispose of it. The clergy had stopped swinging them, but had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Hah!” Jihoon laughed, clapping his hands in amusement and pointed to Father Woosung, would was standing at the front of the nave, shouting commands at some of the nuns and other administrators. His typically-stern face was uncharacteristically shocked, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. He was a very proud man, and his face was absolutely burning from this public embarrassment in front of the entire school.

“Kwon Soonyoung!” Jihoon reprimanded, but Soonyoung was all the way down on the opposite end of the pew and it had become so cloudy that he could barely make him out in the chaos.

“Oh, now he’s really going to die,” Seungcheol joked, as Jihoon stood up and began pushing through the pew to reach the other side. 

The smell had gotten so strong that Jeonghan thought he was going to gag, but apparently some kids had already beaten him to it. He willed himself not to look at it, or else he’d be next.

Hansol looked unusually calm (well, maybe not usually calm for him), leaning back with a small smile on his face and just silently taking in the chaotic scene unfolding before his eyes. Chan next to him was slack-jawed with his brows raised, and it make Jeonghan laugh. He was so innocent, at least compared to the rest of them. 

Some of the nuns had started pouring cups of water on the thuribles, but they were too big to immediately distinguish with small cups. “What are you doing! Get a bucket!” the Father ordered harshly at the poor nuns who were just trying their best. 

“Sir, we don’t have any buckets nearby,” Jeonghan overheard one of the nuns report, and he doubled over in laughter, so hard he was barely able to breathe. Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Junhui were cracking up too. They’d experienced some crazy shit over the last few years at Cheongju, but this was certainly a first. 

All of a sudden, Father Woosung pulled the alarm and the fire sprinkler rained down above them. The downpour soaked all of the students’ uniforms, and Jeonghan muttered about it being a good hair day.

“You look perfect anyway,” Seungcheol laughed, and Jeonghan watched as the water began dripping down from his thick black hair. God certainly did something right when creating Choi Seungcheol.

“All students are to report back to their rooms! Expect a full interrogation tomorrow, trust me, we will figure out which ones of you did this!” Father Woosung yelled through the smoke and sprinklers. A crowd of students packed the room, all trying to filter out of the building at once. Most of the juniors and seniors were laughing and screwing around, while the freshman stood around, confused and awed amidst the pandemonium. 

Their entire group couldn’t stifle their laughter as they stood in the middle of the raining, weed-filled room. Junhui had his hands up in the air, dancing around in the cold water. And even though Jihoon acted like he was mad, he was smiling and giggling too with Soonyoung. Even Jisoo was relaxed and having a fun time. 

“You know Soonyoung did this, right?” said Jeonghan.

“Seriously? Oh my god, he’s going to be a legend now. Well, that’s if he doesn’t get caught.”

“He’s so stupid.” Jeonghan shook his head, grinning.

“But a stupid genius,” Seungcheol remarked.

“Yes, this is pretty genius…” Jeonghan said, looking around at the scene, having to push back his wet hair out of his face to see. Around him, all the people he loved were ecstatic and beaming, laughing and dancing. For once in the last few days, everything felt perfect and right again, as if nothing bad had ever happened to split them apart or ruin their happiness. It was only a small, insignificant moment, but he wanted to bottle it up and play it on repeat. He didn’t believe in God, but he looked up at the ceiling and prayed for things to be like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um Tori Amos stans wya? (I’m probably the only fan though here lets be real) If anyone knows the lyric reference I stuck in there, you’re a real one..
> 
> Also, I did some pretty good research that that catholic mass is preettty relatively accurate if I do say so myself.. Though I doubt any hardcore Catholics are on ao3 and reading this fic, lol


	6. Time to Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A PSA: I wrote a scene in here that I’m sure not everyone will like, but it’s not meant to make you comfortable. I wrote more in the end notes explaining it.
> 
> Also I realized halfway through writing this that I've been using Dokyeom instead of Seokmin throughout this story. For fucks sake lol. I'll go back and change it later aha
> 
> As always, slide on mobile for the polaroids (:

 

“Mr. Choi, please tell us everything about what you were doing leading up to the Mass last night.”

He laughed like it was a joke, with his feet propped up on the edge of the head of the school’s desk. “Is this an interrogation or something?” he asked, the rough Daegu dialect slipping out through the cracks of his words.

Father Woosung scowled disapprovingly at the shoes on his immaculate desk, but he didn’t comment. Seungcheol wasn’t his most trouble-making student, but he was hardly compliant. The boy was _too_ easygoing all the time, and it unnerved him. There was something he was hiding, he just couldn’t figure out _what_. He felt like a dog with a tick scratching him incessantly in the back of his mind. Nevertheless, he’d get to the bottom of it eventually. He always did at this school. 

“Please just answer the question.”

Seungcheol shrugged his shoulders. “I just came from my dorm. That’s it.”

”And is there anyone to support that fact?” Father Woosung asked. He doubted Seungcheol did it anyway. It seemed too childish of an action for him.

”Well considering my roommate wasn’t there, not really,” he stated bluntly, clearly getting tired of the questioning.

Father Woosung leaned forward and propped his hand under his hand in thought. “Who’s your roommate?”

”Yoon Jeonghan.”

”And where was he?”

Seungcheol rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion. “I don’t know! He’s not some dog I’ve got held on a leash. I’m not his keeper.”

Father Woosung smiled to what could almost be considered congenial, but not quite. “Certainly so. Have a good day, Seungcheol.”

 

\----------

 

He had the eyes of a snake, cold, reserved, composed, curled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. It almost intimidated him, but Yoon Jeonghan was only a boy, and he could make his life a living hell in an instant if he desired.

He leveled his eyes with the boy’s, not willing to back down. “Please tell me where you were leading up to the service.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes like this whole conversation was beneath him. “I was at the soccer fields with Kim Mingyu. Lee Minhyuk saw us, if you really don’t believe me,” he stated.

”There are about five Lee Minhyuks at this school.”

”Jesus Christ dude,” Jeonghan said, carding his fingers through his platinum hair with a flick, “it’s not like he has a middle name, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

Father Woosung’s lips hardened in a tight frown. “One more remark like that and I’ll have you in detention for a week.” He was tired of these upperclassmen assholes, who thought just because they towered over the younger students, they could run the rest of the school too. 

“Is that all?” Yoon Jeonghan chuckled, gripping the sides of the chair as he laughed. He stood up to leave and gave him a beautiful, guileful smirk. “Well, I hope my alibi checks out.”

 

\----------

 

Now here was finally a student who Father Woosung could respect: Hong Jisoo. 

Over the years, he’d made sure to keep this one close. As reserved and simple as many people interpreted Jisoo to be, hardly any of them would guess how much power the boy actually held. He’d heard students and teachers alike say, “Hong Jisoo as in the Seoul Hongs? Are you sure? I don’t think so.” But it was true, Hong Jisoo was of _those_ Hongs, the couple who were highly influential government officials in the nation’s capital. They were too classy to be labelled socialites, but they exuded wealth regardless. Their son had always been shoved into the backdrop. If he had to guess, his parents were way to busy to focus on their child, so they subsequently shipped him off here instead. 

He seemed like a good one to have on his side in case he ever needed to use him. And he was so obedient that it was too easy. Plus, he didn’t mind staring at those sharp cat eyes of his.

“Ah Mr. Hong, lovely to see you,” he remarked. Finally a senior who wasn’t an asshole. 

“Of course,” Jisoo nodded, taking the seat across from him.

“As one of my best students,” Father Woosung said, “I have complete faith that you would tell me the truth about who was responsible for yesterday’s events.”

“Well… to be honest, I don’t really know who did it. I was just paying attention to the service when everything happened.” Jisoo smiled politely, and Father Woosung was inclined to believe him. But he wouldn’t discard his use for him quite yet.

 

\----------

 

“Oh I _swear_ I had nothing to do with it, I would never, I was with Jeon Wonwoo the whole time! I would never do something so disrespectful!”

He squinted his eyes at the boy in front of him whose mouth was running 500 kilometers a minute. Wen Junhui was handsome, no doubt, but as soon as he opened his mouth he exuded a deluge of nervous energy. His knee was bouncing so insistently that it was almost starting to annoy him.

Finally he’d had it. “Okay, I got it, you’re excused.”

 

\----------

 

“I bet it was Wang or one of his boys,” Jeon Wonwoo mused, more interested in the birds outside the window than the church leader. 

“Oh really? And what makes you think so?” Father Woosung tilted his head in thought.

“You know, they’re always pulling some dumb shit and trying to act cool in front of the entire school.”

“And your friends do not? I’m well aware that you kids, like Yoon Jeonghan and Kwon Soonyoung, just love to find your ways into trouble.”

That was what made Wonwoo’s head finally snap like elastic and stare into his eyes. As smooth and as cool as a frozen lake, he replied, “They didn’t do it. They’re not that stupid.”

Father Woosung had to retain his laugh. “I beg to differ.”

 

\----------

 

Kwon Soonyoung was sweating bullets, and Woosung immediately knew it was him.

The boy’s hands were fidgeting so hard he eventually stuffed them under his legs to keep them in control. His gaze kept flickering around the room, to the window, to the bookshelves, to the plaque on his desk, anything but his eyes. 

“A staff member spotted you in the vestry before the service. Of course you must know that is where the Holy Communion objects are stored.”

Soonyoung gulped audibly. “We were just getting extra books sir—”

“Cut it out Kwon, and save me the time.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, we really didn’t—”

“Do you know what the punishment is around here?” Woosung asked abruptly, causing Soonyoung to look up from his lap in fear. “Though I’m sure your friends have told you by now, considering some of them have already suffered it.”

“Sir—”

“You’ll also be expelled.”

Soonyoung jumped out of his seat and slammed his hands down on the desk in protest. “Excuse me?”

Father Woosung looked almost surprised. “While I am… impressed by your bold display of… _passion_ , I thought all of you children wanted to escape this place.”

“No no no, please don’t send me away, I need to be here, my friends are here, my life is here,” Soonyoung begged. 

Father Woosung just smirked. “Maybe you should have considered that before you did what you did.”

“Please sir, I’ll do _anything_.”

Woosung stood up, picked off a piece of lint from his shoulder, and opened the office door, gesturing for Soonyoung to exit. “I will let you know my decision soon.”

 

\----------

 

This one was a tough one to crack. His face revealed nothing. Sheer indifference.

He decided to get straight to it then. “Kwon Soonyoung did it. He’s going to be expelled shortly. You might as well say goodbye to him while you can.”

Now, _that_ cracked the kid. A flicker of worry flashed across his face before it returned neutral. 

So it was Kwon Soonyoung, Lee Jihoon’s Achilles heel. Interesting.

 

\----------

 

The next one, Kim Mingyu, was a blubbering mess of _yes sirs_ and _no sirs_. 

“Soonyoung would have never done it, sir, I promise.”

Woosung let out a long sigh. “Did he have any accomplices, Kim?”

“Um, not that I could think of, nope, none at all,” Mingyu fumbled.

“You are close friends though, correct? You wouldn’t have done this with him, would you?”

“Me?” Mingyu gasped, shaking his hands in denial. “Oh no. I’ve never done anything bad here.”

While he heavily doubted that claim, he knew Mingyu had no involvement. but it was fun to watch him squirm.

 

\----------

 

He thought he’d never met a more energetic person in his life than Lee Seokmin. It was exhausting. How did the kid do it?

He droned on and on about how much he’d loved the service, well, “up until the chaos.”

The kid seemed harmless, so he let him off easily.

 

\----------

 

“You know eyeliner is prohibited in the dress code, right?” Woosung asked casually, looking upon Xu Minghao, who was now crossing his arms and scowling.

“Maybe so. What are you gonna do though?” Minghao shot back mockingly, looking him in the eye.

He chuckled. “I guess you have a point there. I don’t bother with such trivial things.”

“You know, if you’re trying to interrogate me, attacking me first isn’t the best way to get answers,” Minghao pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong. “So I’m assuming you have nothing to tell me?”

The boy shook his head and smiled. “I don’t snitch on my friends.”

 

\----------

 

“Hi sir!” Boo Seungkwan said upon entering his office, bright and bubbly. Noticeably way too bright and bubbly.

“Hello… please sit down.”

Seungkwan was a bundle of flighty energy, sitting down and kicking his feet beneath the chair. “What did you call me here for?” he politely inquired.

“I need to know everything you know about what happened, and where you were at the time.”

Seungkwan’s legs kicked faster under his chair. “I was with Mingyu! We’re best friends. We do everything together. Last weekend, we—”

God, these kids were a handful. “Kim Mingyu was with Yoon Jeonghan,” Woosung stately bluntly. “And neither of them mentioned you.”

Sure, Boo Seungkwan was lying. He definitely knew more than he was letting on, or maybe he was somehow involved in Soonyoung’s scheme. But considering he already had Soonyoung, he didn’t particularly give a shit about Boo Seungkwan, guilty or not.

 

\----------

 

“Do you remember anything odd about the service? Anyone that seemed suspect?”

“Uh, what?” Chwe Vernon asked, confused, breaking his fixed gaze on the bird perched outside the window. 

“Did you see anything?” Woosung repeated, growing tired.

“I mean, I was listening to music, and then besides the billows of weed smoke, nah. I can’t believe burnt weed actually smells that bad. Who knew?”

Father Woosung rubbed his temple in exhaustion. _You’ve got to be kidding me._ “You know what, Vernon? Nevermind all this. You’re free to go.”

 

\----------

 

Finally, he was reaching the end of his list. That was a relief. The young freshman looked nervous, but an innocent child all the less.

“While I’m still required to interview you,” he began, “we’ve already found Kwon Soonyoung responsible.”

Chan’s mouth gaped wide. “Really?”

Father Woosung flashed a tight smile. “You see, there are things I’m sure you still need to learn here. We don’t tolerate misbehavior. You will be punished, and you will be expelled.”

Chan nodded quickly in acknowledgement. “But—Soonyoung didn’t mean harm! He’d never hurt anyone, I think he just wanted some fun.”

Woosung genuinely smiled this time. _Thank you, Lee Chan._ “So you confirm he did it?”

“Oh—I mean, no—”

The little boy had truly just drilled in the final nail of Kwon’s coffin.

 

\----------

 

Somehow they’d ended up here after the interrogations, in the church. Jeonghan complained that he wanted to get his mind off it all back in their dorm, but Seungcheol said he could think of somewhere even better.

“This is horribly sacrilegious, you know. We’re desecrating a church,” Jeonghan pointed out after throwing off his shirt.

“Yes, but isn’t that what makes it so fun?” asked Seungcheol, leaning down to press kisses on Jeonghan’s torso on the bench. 

Jeonghan giggled, the sweet sounds echoing throughout the airy room. Seungcheol certainly wasn’t wrong. Jeonghan looked up at the beautiful mosaic stained glass, the colors still vibrant at night with the moonlight shining through. The light reflected tinges of yellows and blues and purples and reds that scattered across the room. He could see the colors painting Seungcheol from behind, staining his dark hair a myriad of hues. It made him look like one of those angels depicted on the walls and windows. 

He could see some of them above him, with their wings outstretched gloriously and looking down on him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. Their lips formed neither frowns nor smiles but conveyed a somber sadness. Was it pity or disapproval?

He saw the Virgin Mary too, high above the stars and the angels. She was definitely rolling over in her grave by this point. Jeonghan was helping Seungcheol get rid of his belt, and they chucked it to the side, hitting the next over pew with a heavy clunk.

Things only progressed from there. He could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest from all the nervousness and excitement of what they were doing and where they were doing it. With Seungcheol above him, he pulled them both up, and quickly pushed Seungcheol down on the bench so that their positions were switched. Seungcheol let out a small exhale of surprise and hissed as the sharp contact of the hard wood against his back. Jeonghan half grinned, reveling in the way he was always able to surprise him.

His fingers trailed down dangerously until he began palming Seungcheol through his boxers. Seungcheol groaned and grabbed onto Jeonghan, begging him to hurry up and stop teasing him.

Jeonghan enjoyed it though, watching the other boy reduced into a crumbling mess under his touch. He felt in control, as if he held all the power, even though Seungcheol was probably just giving it to him. 

As soon as Jeonghan decided to finally indulge Seungcheol and give him what he wanted, faint footsteps clicked on the glossy tile floor. Jeonghan immediately stilled, causing Seungcheol to let out a whiny complaint. 

“Jeongh—” He slapped a hand over Seungcheol’s mouth tightly and prayed no one had heard them. Seungcheol’s eyes widened once he picked up on the hardly perceptible voices that seemed to be drifting nearer and nearer.

The two scrambled up from the bench. Jeonghan looked at Seungcheol for what to do with pleading eyes. Jeonghan’s mind couldn’t piece together a quick enough solution, but Seungcheol pointed over his shoulder. Jeonghan turned around and followed the direction of Seungcheol’s finger. There stood the small confessional against the west wall. One side could barely fit one person, but the right curtain had recently been torn, so Jeonghan and Seungcheol were forced into the left side.

The tangle of limbs was chaotic as they desperately tried to fit in the booth before the people approaching noticed. Somehow they ended up with Seungcheol sitting atop the kneeler and Jeonghan pulled across his lap, Seungcheol’s arms tight around Jeonghan’s waist to prevent him from shifting at all. 

He felt like he was suffocating in the dark box, despite feeling Seungcheol around him to keep him grounded. He tried to focus on his breathing, worried his breaths were too heavily. But hyperfixating on his breathing only made everything worse. All he could hear was his heart racing in his throat. Seungcheol picked up on his panic and pressed soft kisses of reassurance to his temple.

They could hear the voices clearly now. “Beautiful? Isn’t it? At night.” It was that asshole priest Woosung. Was it normal for him to be out here this late at night?

“Yes, but I still don’t understand why we’re here.” Jeonghan recognized that voice. Who was it? He didn’t dare take a peek out the curtain and risk being seen. It was going to drive him crazy.

“I wanted to talk somewhere else, somewhere more private,” spoke Woosung, and Jeonghan scrunched his nose in disgust. The man was the epitome of greasy.

“Well… you can tell me now,” the boy said.

Father Woosung chuckled. “So impatient! Anyway. I know who pulled that stunt during mass yesterday, and I know it was one of your friends.”

“But—how does that have to do with me? I wasn’t involved at all. I don’t get it,” the voice objected, growing nervous. 

“I know you and your friends are very close. I was going to expel him, but I thought of something much better. I promise I won’t punish him and kick him out of the school if you give me something in return, Jisoo.”

“Joshuji!” Jeonghan whispered in shock, and he whipped around so hard to look at Seungcheol that he slipped through the elder’s arms. Jeonghan fell with a loud thud against the confessional box. He could see Seungcheol wincing through the sliver of light. 

_Great,_ Jeonghan thought. _You’ve really fucking done it now, dumbass_.

____

____

__They were over. There was no way in hell Woosung hadn’t heard that. Of course, Jeonghan could hear the brisk steps approaching, and all Jeonghan could do was squeeze his eyes shut. Then, maybe, possibly, this wouldn’t be actually happening._ _

__The velvet curtain was pulled back harshly and Jeonghan was afraid to look. First he looked up at Seungcheol, who was biting his lip in frustration and utter defeat. Then he looked in front of him, and saw Woosung, who looked somewhat surprised but also not at all. Lastly, he saw Jisoo across the church, looking as pitying as the sad angels above him._ _

__“My my, what do we have here?” Father Woosung asked as he grabbed onto Jeonghan’s arm and dragged him out of the box. Seungcheol followed immediately, ready to protest at the way Jeonghan was being treated, but he managed to keep his mouth shut and not make things worse._ _

__“What were you two doing here?” Woosung’s voice rose and he stepped over to Seungcheol. “You better tell me boy.” Seungcheol was struggling to give a non-incriminating answer._ _

__Jisoo’s eyes met Jeonghan’s for a moment, and the two could see the fear reflected in each other’s eyes. Jisoo look a few steps forward from the center of the church, walking into the aisles and looking down. In front of him was Seungcheol’s belt that they’d carelessly discarded. Jeonghan had totally gotten to grab it in the rush._ _

__Jeonghan and Jisoo had been friends for so long that their had their own unique communication, a telepathy of sorts. Of course, Jisoo understood the situation and edged forward quietly so that Father Woosung would not turn around._ _

__Jisoo kicked the belt behind him and under the next pew out of Woosung’s eyesight. He hadn’t accounted for the metal belt buckle that clunked against the tile floor._ _

__Now Jeonghan knew that him and Jisoo would be the worst thieves in recorded history. They’d both managed to expose themselves in a matter of minutes._ _

__“What was that?” Woosung turned around to ask Jisoo. Jeonghan didn’t like the threatening tone in his voice._ _

__Jisoo’s sweet doe eyes were on full display. He looked ever-so-innocent. No—they were more like a lamb’s eyes, one ready for the slaughter. “Excuse me?”_ _

__Father Woosung shook his head in disbelief. “You three need to cut the games.” He walked over to Jisoo, who looked over at Jeonghan as if to say, _I’m so sorry.__ _

__He shook his head from where he was still slumped on the floor. _It wasn’t your fault.__ _

__Woosung saw the silver buckle shining and picked it up, looking over to Seungcheol and Jeonghan. “Gotcha.”_ _

__Jeonghan gulped. His terror grew and Father Woosung walked back over, and Jeonghan had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. Only his elbows kept his head propped off the floor. He could feel the rest of the freezing tile against his body, the cold seeping into his bones. He remembered feeling completely in control moments before on top of Seungcheol. But here he was, lower than the dirt beneath Woosung’s polished shoes. Just like that, Jeonghan had become powerless again._ _

__The man bent on his knees in front of him and looked down upon him mockingly. Still, he refused to look up from the floor and look into the man’s eyes. “Yoon Jeonghan. How dare you fuck another boy in my church, you faggot whore.” Woosung slapped his face so hard he physically recoiled, and the sound reverberated through the room. Jeonghan whimpered, and soon he noticed the white tile stained by bright drops of red coming from his nose._ _

__“Hey!” Seungcheol shouted, moving toward to confront Woosung. But he forgot what the man had in his hand still, who stood up to meet Seungcheol and smacked him with the belt._ _

__“Holy—” Seungcheol gritted out, and Jeonghan watched the red welt blossom on his arm. He got down on the floor next to Jeonghan, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the hand-shaped bruise forming on the right side of his face. He took off his shirt and placed it on Jeonghan’s face to stop the nosebleed from getting everywhere. “I’m going to kill him,” he muttered. Jeonghan would have laughed at Seungcheol’s naivety if he’d had it in him to laugh._ _

__Father Woosung looked ready to hit one of them again when Jisoo interfered. “Stop!” he begged, “Or I’ll tell my parents… or I’ll do what you asked! I’ll give you whatever you want.” Jisoo’s hands were shaky but his eyes were steady. He let out a small whisper, “Just please don’t hurt my friends…”_ _

__“Don’t be an idiot, Joshuji,” Jeonghan mumbled from his spot on the floor._ _

__The man smiled deadlier than a shark, his eyes narrowing and vicious teeth grinning. “If you insist, _Joshuji_. You can start with getting on your knees.”_ _

__“Oh fuck no! Only I can call him that!” protested Jeonghan, as Seungcheol shushed him by his side._ _

__Woosung looked over to Jeonghan again, scowling. “You’re really asking for another slap, Yoon. Maybe that boyfriend of yours needs to do a better job of keeping you in check.”_ _

__Jeonghan was fuming, and the only thing keeping him from ripping the older man apart was Seungcheol. Seungcheol was just trying to stop him from getting hurt again. If only Seungcheol could prevent him from experiencing the worst pain of all: what was about to happen in front of him. He could see the first of the tears ripping down Jisoo’s elegant face, and it made him sick._ _

__Jeonghan rotated a bit so he wasn’t facing ahead anymore. “I’m going to throw up.” Seungcheol didn’t look like he was faring much better either._ _

__Woosung began to order Jisoo, and Jeonghan could hear the fly of his pants unzipping. Oh God. He couldn’t handle it. He buried his head in his hands and squeezed his ears so hard he thought his head would just pop like a balloon. He was truly the world’s biggest coward. His best friend was being forced into giving the greasiest man alive a blowjob for Jeonghan and Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s sakes, and Jeonghan was immobilized on the ground. He was doing _nothing_. All he’d managed to do was get blood all over the damn floor._ _

__He could hear another moan through his faulty headphones, and he could feel Seungcheol’s hand press against his. He didn’t know how long it had gone on, but it was too long, and Jeonghan was losing his sanity._ _

__“It’s over,” Seungcheol whispered at some point in time. Jeonghan lifted his head up and the other tried to wipe away the tears. No words were able to come out of his mouth, he just kept shaking his head as if it wasn’t real._ _

__Now listen assholes,” Woosung said, directed at Jeonghan and Seungcheol. “You’re not expelled. But I’m not done, I’ll be watching you two. And Kwon.”_ _

__Jeonghan wanted to spit on his stupid, expensive shoes._ _

__“And you better not touch a single hair on their heads ever again, or I will make you a public scandal,” Seungcheol spoke up, flashing the man a pained, sardonic smile._ _

__Woosung took it in stride and laughed. “Of course, Choi. Now, I have places to be, so enjoy the rest of your night.” He zipped his pants up again and leisurely exited the old church, the high doors slamming behind him._ _

__He saw Jisoo, and it made his heart crumble. The boy was silent, and the only evidence of what had happened was his mused up brown hair, his flushed face, and those defeated lamb eyes. Jeonghan immediately threw himself onto Jisoo and wrapped him into a tight hug, rambling on about how everything was all his fault._ _

__“It was my decision, Han,” he whispered. “It could have been much worse. You were hurt too.”_ _

__“How?” Jeonghan raised his voice, “How in the world could it ever be worse?”_ _

__Seungcheol joined their embrace, and they sat in silence for a while. Jeonghan just begged for the night to end._ _

__

__\----------_ _

__

__Early next morning, Seungcheol was called to an administrator's office. Again._ _

__He entered and found the assistant principal of the school, mulling over papers on her littered desk. “Choi Seungcheol?” she asked sternly, pulling on her glasses. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tightly that it only added to the severity of her character. Nonetheless, he nodded. “Close the door.”_ _

__He obliged and took a seat, exhausted from last night, exhausted from whatever this was going to be. All he wanted to do was sleep. His arm was still killing him from where he’d been hit._ _

__He gulped. “What is this, another investigation?” he joked, trying to conceal his nervousness. “I don’t know what you all could possibly want from me by now—”_ _

__“Mr. Choi, please tell us everything about your relationship with Yoon Jeonghan.”_ _

__And there it was. He could feel it, the beginning of the end._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued PSA: I’m gay and I didn’t like writing the “f word” or writing about rape/sexual coercion but honestly I thought it was necessary. This is intended to call out the corruption and sexual abuse in some catholic church/private schools. Also… there are many corrupt Korean high schools, especially private ones, such as the recent SOPA scandal w/ sexual harassment and unfair treatment... That’s actually where Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Dokyeom went. Sooooo yeah.
> 
> Also something I wanted to add: Be clear this isn’t representative of all Catholic churches/schools/boarding schools. I’m only illuminating upon a select few cases. Just don’t want this to be misinterpreted.
> 
> Comments appreciated (:


	7. Walking the Wafer Thin Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several things happen the Monday after the incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter is short and not exactly what I wanted it to be but whatever  
> I needed this chapter before we get to the next one which will be huge ngl

 

Their hurried steps echoed on the tiled floors Monday morning as the few remaining students rushed like ants to reach their next classes before the tardy bell.

“It’s taken care of.”

“What do you mean, _it’s taken care of_?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? Please just drop it.” Seungcheol rubbed his eyes tiredly and pulled Soonyoung closer. “Look, I got no sleep last night, so just bear with me.”

Soonyoung looked worriedly into Seungcheol’s eyes, seeing the dark circles underneath. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice dropped down into a whisper. “Does this have to do with… Jeonghan? I saw his face, hyung.”

Seungcheol would have attempted to laugh if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. He, Jisoo, and Jeonghan had promised not to ever talk about what had happened the night before or tell anyone, but that of course didn’t stop the rest of the boys from inquiring. 

“You’re not expelled, is that not enough for you?” he spat out. Maybe he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Soonyoung bit his lip in worry. “It’s okay… You don’t have to tell us everything, I guess.”

Seungcheol looked down at the ground, because he didn’t know how he could meet Soonyoung’s eyes and respond. “I’ll see you third period, alright?”

Did these kids really hold such blind faith in him? Seungcheol felt bad, as if a deep hole was growing in his stomach. They were a family who told each other everything (supposedly). And by withholding secrets, he could feel the polyester strings of the fabric of their family pulling taut.

 

\----------

 

The two beautiful Chinese boys had quite the reputation, and, well, some things couldn’t be helped. Everyone knew you didn’t tell Wen a secret you wouldn’t be okay with the whole school knowing. And every secret was passed down to Xu for deliberation, who always delighted in Wen’s secrets like golden caramel candies. Whenever they were together, the two could always be spotted looking like a conniving pair of thieves. 

Junhui linked his arm through Minghao’s as they stride into their second block art class. “We’ve got to talk about breakfast this morning,” he said, and Minghao nodded in agreement. 

To be honest, Junhui was awful at drawing or painting or sculpting. He’d only signed up for a nice, relaxing morning break. Plus he enjoyed having a nice class to see Minghao everyday, no matter what craziness happened outside of school hours.

They took their seats next to each other in front of large wooden easels and tried to talk before class officially started. 

“What happened to Jeonghan?” Junhui whispered as he set up his easel.

”I don’t know.” Minghao shrugged. “You’re closer to him than I am, right? Wouldn’t he have told you?” He began pulling his materials out of his bag.

”Well I think I’ve started to realize recently that I don’t know as much about him as I thought,” Junhui mused bitterly. “Nowadays I’m not sure how much I know. And what of it is real.”

”Oh don’t say that,” Minghao scolded. “He’s smart. There must be a reason.” 

Of course, Minghao was always the sound of reason amidst Junhui’s constant worries. _Yes,_ Junhui told himself, _he has to be right. I need him to be right. There has to be a reason._

“But what happened to his face?” It wasn’t like that when he left the offices,” Junhui gossiped. It was true, they’d all been shocked the next morning when they saw Jeonghan sporting a purple bruise with the faint outline of a hand on his cheek. Well. _Most_ of them had acted surprised. 

“Hmm…” Minghao pondered, “I know Seungcheol definitely didn’t look surprised. And Jisoo was so unusually quiet.”

“Do you think… Seungcheol could have hit him?” Junhui asked incredulously. It was an insane thought, but he didn’t have any sane reasonings.

Minghao rolled his eyes. “Seungcheol? Does he even have a mean bone in his body? I doubt it. They may fight sometimes, but Seungcheol would never go that far. Atleast, I don’t think so.”

“Ugh.” Junhui slumped down in his stool miserably. “I can read almost everyone, but he’s not much of an open book. He looked tense though. And exhausted. All three of them did.”

“Since when was everyone keeping such secrets?” Minghao laughed. 

Junhui leaned over to Minghao and spoke quietly, “Oh, I think the secrets have always been there, we’re just only learning about them now.”

”Wen! Xu!” Mrs. Hwang shouted from across the classroom. “Are you done talking, or should we wait until you two finish to start class?”

Junhui would have certainly rolled his eyes if Mrs. Hwang wasn’t situated in his direct line of sight. “Sorry, Mrs. Hwang.” 

“Now please, get out your sketchbooks. I assumed you all would have learned by now to be ready to go by the start of class,” she scolded.

Minghao leaned over to pull out his sketchbook from his bag when some loose pages began to fall out on the floor. “Shit,” he muttered, trying to grab the papers quickly.

”Ooh, what is _this,_ ” mused Junhui, snatching up some of the sketchbook pages before Minghao’s frantic fingers caught them.

“Hey, give it back!” Minghao half-whispered, as Junhui and the papers pulled further out of his reach.

Junhui examined the sketches and smiled almost wickedly. “Minghao!” The other boy sighed and could only look on as Junhui began to card through the multiple drawings.

They were beautiful, truly. But they were all Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu. A face-on profile, Mingyu gazing away, him looking down and reading what was highly likely one of Minghao’s fashion magazines. Etched in charcoal pencils and vines, loose around the edges and smudged with thick tortillions. Abstract, realistic, soft, hard, each drawing differed dramatically. However beautiful though, the younger boy would die if Mingyu ever found out.

Junhui giggled loudly. “I mean, I knew you _liked_ him, but this is borderline—“

”Shh!” Minghao cut him off loudly before the obnoxious older boy could say anything more. “Are you trying to get everyone to know I’m gay?” he hissed.

Junhui continued laughing, which made Minghao frown even more. “Oh Hao-Hao, you’re friends with me, do you really think they think you’re straight? That’s a losing battle I’m afraid you’ve already lost,” Junhui drawled, and quickly dodged a hit from Minghao’s spare paintbrush.

“You know what this looks like, right…” Junhui pointed out, raising the papers as Minghao shoved them down before anyone could see.

“Okay, okay, I’m not an obsessed stalker I swear! His form is just ideal for drawing!” Minghao defended.

Junhui snorted and shook his head. “Hey, as long as I don’t see any nudes in here…”

”Junhui!” Minghao hissed, taking back the drawings harshly and shoving them into his bag.

Junhui smiled softly at the endearing boy who was too afraid to tell the boy he loved his true feelings and intentions. 

Junhui raised hands defensively. “I’m just saying, you gotta tell him. Soon.” 

Minghao looked at him like like he was crazy. “Well obviously! It’s a little harder for me to do it than you to say it. Plus, I’m no Wen Junhui.”

”No, you’re something better, you’re a Xu Minghao!” Junhui giggled.

”I’m not totally sure that helps me in this situation.”

”Excuse me?” Junhui gasped. “You’re handsome, smart, talented, creative, you’ve got great hair—“

Minghao rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. “You’re really embarrassing, Wen Junhui, you know that right?”

”Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

Their instructor’s voice broke them out of their conversation. “Today we will be doing timed portraits.”

”You better draw me as well as you draw Mingyu,” Junhui whispered beside Minghao, earning him a slap on the arm. 

“Instead of your typical partners, we’re going to switch things up,” said Mrs. Hwang. Half the class groaned. “Please turn your easels to the person diagonally across from you.”

When Junhui turned around, he decided he would have rather chosen to die. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” he muttered, looking up at Jung Taekwoon. 

Taekwoon just sneered, an expression that seemed to be Elmer’s glued onto his stuck up face. 

“I’m sorry if my beautiful face is really distracting while you’re drawing, I apologize in advance,” Junhui goaded. Minghao stepped on his foot, and Junhui grimaced but paid him no notice. 

Taekwoon rolled his eyes and said, “And how many guys have you told that line?”

”Less than your mother,” Junhui laughed, earning himself another step on the foot from Minghao, but the younger boy couldn’t conceal his subtle smirk at Junhui’s sharp response.

Now Taekwoon really looked flustered, his face beginning to turn as red as the strawberry jam Junhui had eaten that morning. 

“Atleast I _have_ a mother, Wen,” Taekwoon bit back. “Didn’t your rich daddy knock up some prostitute in China on a work trip?” 

“Hey asshole!” Minghao finally snapped. “Will you ever fucking quit?” He pulled Junhui out of his chair and plopped him down in his own seat, switching their partners in an attempt to resolve the acrimonious conflict. 

Junhui was silent at the last comment, and endured the rest of the class avoiding Taekwoon’s eyes. Taekwoon was right, their parents were business partners and he was sure Taekwoon’s equally-asshole father had told him about Junhui’s. 

As soon as the bell rang, Minghao muttered, “Let’s go,” and the two quickly shuffled out of the classroom. 

“I could never have drawn that idiot!” Junhui exclaimed. “His stupid, obnoxious, privileged face is too ugly to be drawn. Did you want to rip out that trashy bleached blonde hair when you sketched it? Jeonghan’s blonde, but at least his dye job looks expensive. He looks like one of those guys that preaches some douche-y, bullshit philosophy to girls he picks up and then leaves them in the morning.”

Minghao smiled to himself quietly as Junhui ranted. Finally, he spoke, “He probably is. But honestly, ugly things are the best things to draw, because everyone always chooses the beautiful things.”

Junhui sighed. “You’re supposed to agree with me, Hao!”

The boy chuckled. “You’re right, I’m sorry, Taekwoon is a massive, ugly dick.”

”Thank you, that’s much better.”

 

\----------

 

Seungcheol looked in the dirty school bathroom mirror and sighed. He gripped the cheap linoleum counter as he stared into his reflection. He didn’t like what he saw.

He felt like he’d aged drastically in solely his senior year. Somehow he’d been able to balance Jeonghan, manage their make-shift family, and maintain his grades almost flawlessly. Recently though… nothing was simple anymore, and it made him exhausted.

He’d turned on the creaky faucet to splash some water in his face and hopefully make it through the rest of the day. He just wanted to sleep. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape reality. The ringing slap echoed through his mind and the sight of Jisoo couldn’t be erased. He knew it wasn’t all his fault, but still, the guilt overcame his rationality. If he hadn’t taken Jeonghan there that night… things would have ended drastically different. Jeonghan wouldn’t have been cold and indifferent this morning, lost in his surely terrifying thoughts that he hated to share. 

He rubbed the water off his face and paused. He’d thought he’d been alone in the bathroom, but now he could hear the faint shuffling in one of the apparently not empty stalls. “Who’s there?” he asked, turning to see a pair of black Stan Smiths under far stall door.

A sniffle, and then a weak, “Nobody.”

Umm… okay.

“You’re really going to just hide in there and not come out?” Seungcheol laughed. _You’ve got to be kidding me._

“S-Seungcheol?” the voice choked out, and he heard the stall lock being slowly pulled.

“Yes?” he replied slowly.

The door pushed open, revealing Seungkwan with fresh tears on his cheeks. Seungcheol immediately rushed toward him and grabbed young freshman firmly by the arms. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t know why he asked. The poor boy was shaking and sweat was beading on his forehead. He shook his head feverishly. “I feel—sick.”

“Take deep breaths, Seungkwan,” he advised, to the boy who looked like he was barely holding it together. He’d forgotten. The poor kid apparently had some rough anxiety issues, though he’d never had to handle them.

Seungkwan tried to calm himself, but the whole thought seemed to make his panic worse. He held onto the ledge of the sink to try to steady himself. He panted out, “I feel like I’m going to die or something.”

Seungcheol didn’t touch him, opting to give the boy space instead. “Hey hey hey, focus on me, okay? Nobody’s dying here today.”

After another minute, Seungkwan started to regain his breath and his trembling quelled. 

“Maybe it’s none of my business, but are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Seungcheol asked, arms crossed and leaning against the bathroom tile wall.

Seungkwan took a shaky breath and smoothed out the front of his shirt. “You’ll laugh at me,” he pouted, turning away.

“You really think I’m going to laugh at you? How many times have you seen me do embarrassing shit once? You’ve seen me get a 10 on my quiz. I ran into a parking sign outside. You’ve watched me black out drunk. I also came back one time with a tattoo because I lost to Jeonghan in a bet.”

“Okay, okay, okay, I get it,”” Seungkwan laughed half-heartedly. “I just have this huge presentation next block and I’m terrified, whenever I speak in front of people I get all choked and can’t speak and I want to dig a hole and bury myself in it.”

“Oh Seungkwan. You know that’s normal right? Public speaking’s hard, but you’re usually so confident. All you need is practice.”

“Who even assigns a presentation right before the New Year anyway?” he groaned. “This school is inhumane.”

“Damn, that sucks,” said Seungcheol. “But if you’re saying that now, just get ready for the three more years,” he snickered.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Maybe if I die during this presentation, I won’t have to endure three more years of this.”

“You say you can’t speak in front of people, but you should join the theater department based on this level of dramaticism,” joked Seungcheol, though Seungkwan wasn’t very amused.

“I’m not _that_ dramatic. Plus…” he drawled off.

“Plus?”

“Hansol’s in my class, and that makes everything worse, I’ll panic if I see him while I’m speaking.”

Ah, _figures_. The hyungs had speculated the two and their relationship. Poor Seungkwan though, cause Hansol seemed as straight as an arrow.

“I see.”

Seungkwan nodded sadly, thumbing his fingers together in his nervous energy.

Seungcheol tried to put it lightly. “Look… just remember to breathe, okay? And you don’t have to look at him. Plus, knowing Hansol, if you fucked your entire presentation, he wouldn’t even give a shit. He’d just support you more.”

“I guess…” Seungkwan moped.

“You know when I first met Jeonghan, and knew I liked him, I had to stand in front of the class and recite my awful, horrible, disgusting handwritten poem?” said Seungcheol.

Seungkwan looked up at Seungcheol at that, a grin at the idea. “Really?”

“Yeah really,” Seungcheol laughed. “And hey, let’s be honest… He totally fell in love with me anyway,” he added with an air of bravado confidence.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and genuinely smiled at Seungcheol’s story. “I guess there’s hope for me then.”

Seungcheol leaned in and smiled. “Look, if I can do it, you can do anything.”

 

\----------

 

“Should we continue on to physics?” 

Mingyu groaned miserably as he examined the library table, full of papers and textbooks. “I think we need a study break.”

“We literally just started,” Minghao said bluntly, rolling his eyes at the predictable boy.

“Don’t you want to do something fun?” he whined, knowing Minghao couldn’t resist by any means. He allowed Mingyu to pull him up from his chair by the hand.

“So… what are we going to do?” Minghao whispered. Incidentally, pulling him up had caused the two boys to stand very close. Extremely close. Too close. 

Damn Jeonghan for putting obnoxious thoughts in his mind. For the last twenty four hours, he reviewed every encounter, reminisced every conversation, reconsidered every conscious thought he had of Xu Minghao. And his conclusions? He’d even mindlessly consulted Soonyoung’s magic 8-ball. And, sources say: yes, Kim Mingyu is in love. 

Maybe not totally love. What was that even supposed to feel like, anyway? Maybe he should have asked Jeonghan. Or Seungcheol. Or Junhui, since the boy was so notoriously in love with himself. 

But he was starting to notice things he hadn’t before, now that they were so evidently close, only mere inches apart. The dimples he hadn’t picked up on, the helix piercing on his right ear that was usually hidden under his long black hair. Oh shit. _Snap out of it._

What was he going to say again? Oh yeah. “Let’s break into Woosung’s closet,” he suggested.

“Your idea is for us to get in more trouble than we already are?” Minghao asked incredulously and shook his head. 

“Hey, that asshole deserves it,” Mingyu countered, and added, “Plus, it’s free wine.”

Minghao mulled it over and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “You’re right, I’m down.”

 

\----------

 

Somehow they ended up on the floor of the small vestry closet, heads propped up against the back shelf. Mingyu grabbed another wafer from the golden detailed ciborium and popped it in his mouth. 

“These aren’t even good, I don’t know why we’re eating these,” he laughed. “They taste like nothing. Wheaty paper.” He examined one of the wafers in his fingers, thin enough to break. They often stuck to the roof of his mouth and it was a huge pain.

“Mmm,” Minghao nodded, wincing after he took another swig of the wine bottle in his hands. “This is terrible, cheap wine.”

“Not much better after it’s consecrated either,” Mingyu pointed out. “But better than no wine.”

“Definitely better than no wine.”

“When he is going to realize the amount of bread and wine from the collection that goes missing every week?” Minghao pondered and reached for a communion wafer.

“Or the two kids that sit in the church closet?” added Mingyu.

Minghao turned his head to look over at him. He shrugged. “I locked the door.”

Mingyu turned his head too and ended up staring way too close into Minghao’s eyes again. “Did you?” he asked, voice dropped down to a low whisper. He saw the other boy swallow nervously and Mingyu internally yelled at himself to stop looking. Or he could listen to Jeonghan.

“I guess it’s guaranteed nobody’s going to find us then.” God, his friends were right. He was so much more appealing when he didn’t speak. Or knock things over. Or sneeze. But it wasn’t like he knew how to flirt very well, Junhui taking him to two college parties was definitely enough to prove how bad he was at it. 

Minghao nodded slightly, seemingly at a loss for words. So was Mingyu. He didn’t know how to make the atmosphere less awkward.

“Do you… want more wine?” he suggested.

“No… Another wafer,” Minghao replied softly, but he made no effort to move.

Mingyu grabbed one of the crackers and willfully commanded his hand not to shake. He slipped the wafer in Minghao’s parted mouth but made sure his fingers didn’t touch his lips. Minghao swallowed the wafer carefully. It was so odd to see the tough-looking boy with long black hair and combat boots embarrassed for once.

Mingyu drank some more of the bottle and offered it to Minghao, but he shook his head. “I think we need to find some better wine than this.”

The other boy sat silently for a moment, then abruptly: “Mingyu, I have to tell you—”

“I know already,” Mingyu cut him off, a smile curving on his face.

“You know?” Minghao asked incredulously, growing even more flustered.

“Yeah, I know.”

Minghao seemed to be at a loss for words again, but Mingyu decided to fix that. He closed the gap between their lips, pressing his against Minghao’s, trying to find a balance between soft and hard. It didn’t last long at all. They pulled away, and the shock was evident in Minghao’s eyes.

Oh god, did he like it, did he hate it? Did he fuck everything up? Was Minghao going to talk to him after this? But then Minghao leaned up from against the hard shelf and pulled Mingyu back in, fingers curling around the nape of Mingyu’s neck and into the ends of his chestnut hair. He swore he almost whined at the touch. The kisses grew sloppier—but Mingyu didn’t mind. He could taste the bitter, almost sour wine that swirled across their tongues and the faint papery taste of the communion wafers. He’d expected a kiss with Minghao to be sweeter, but this was okay too.

“Mingyu,” Minghao breathed out heavily, to which Mingyu almost swore. He’d temporarily forgotten where they were, and this wasn’t the place.

“Minghao…” Mingyu muttered through kisses. “We need to stop.”

That caused Minghao to pause and look up at him confusedly. “What?” He sounded almost hurt.

“No—it’s not like that,” Mingyu quickly reassured. “I just, if we keep going… I won’t be able to stop myself. And I don’t wanna do that here. You deserve better than a dimly-lit storage closet,” Mingyu half-joked, but his words were sincere.

The adoration was clear in Minghao’s eyes. He gave Mingyu another quick kiss and whispered, “Let’s go somewhere nicer then.”

Now it was Mingyu’s time to be embarrassed. How could he possibly argue with that proposition? He nodded quickly. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title partially came from me quoting monty python’s “its wafer thin” line lol + walking a thin line idiom
> 
> Comments appreciated, school is rough and they seriously make my entire day (:


	8. Cheonsa of Cheongju

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hyungs go to a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm dropping 9k on your ass  
> And no I did not proofread any of it
> 
> Soonhoon's song for this fic is totally Rihanna's James Joint and that's that lol
> 
> Sorry it's been forever  
> Ngl I really changed the whole school name at the beginning of writing this fic just so this catchy cheonsa of cheonju nickname could exist lmfao and I never even remembered to include it until now  
> Also at this point you’ve probably gathered that this story in jeongcheol-centric. Ofc I have more going on w/ the others, but I hope this is good with yall  
> If you don't know Monsta X well, it doesn't really matter, but it's certainly more fun if you do  
> Buckle up for this one, the POVs and multiple storylines are all over the place, whoops. It gets a bit dark so if you can't handle dark things.. don't be reading

 

The air was teeming with restless energy, the remaining students left in the school itching to go out and do something. It was finally the eve of the Korean Lunar New Year, and the three-day public holiday had students returning home to their families. Some had left to visit their families early, leaving the rest lounging around doing nothing.

Jisoo was probably living the life in his parents’ lavish house, Minghao already on his flight home for the Chinese New Year, Dokyeom reuniting with his older sister from college, and Mingyu likely starting to help his mother with their expansive New Years dinner (his japchae was to die for). The others teemed in Jihoon and Wonwoo’s room, and somehow they made everyone fit.

“Changkyun said there’s going to be a New Years party at the college tonight, we should go,” Junhui said offhandedly from Wonwoo’s bed. 

Soonyoung looked up from spot beside Jihoon on the boy’s bed. “That is exactly why we should _not_ go.”

Junhui threw an annoyed glance over at Soonyoung. “What’s your deal?” he huffed. Wonwoo rolled his eyes beside him, but Junhui never seemed to notice.

Soonyoung crossed his arms. Bluntly, he stated, “I just don’t like him.”

“What, did something happen with your drug dealing business with him?” Junhui offered.

“Can we—please— _not_ talk about that?” Jihoon broke out, tired of the constant quarreling and anything having to do with Soonyoung’s business.

“Nothing happened,” Soonyoung grumbled.

“Are you sure going is a good idea?” Wonwoo whispered against Junhui. “Don’t you have to go back home tomorrow?”

Junhui turned to smile at him. “My flight isn’t until ten in the morning.”

“So you’re going to take an eight hour flight hungover?” Wonwoo mused, shaking his head at his ridiculous friend. 

“Oh Wonwoo, you worry too much,” Junhui replied, poking him in the side, which caused him to laugh.

“I’ll go,” Jeonghan shrugged. “Why not?”

“I guess that means I’m coming too,” said Seungcheol.

“Ooh! I wanna come, I’ve never been to a real party!” Chan piped up, tugging on Wonwoo’s arm and flashing a cute expression. 

“Uh, remember what happened last time you drank? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he responded, much to Chan’s dismay. 

“Hey, what about us!” Hansol asked optimistically from where he and Seungkwan sat on the floor, all the space on the beds taken up. 

Junhui broke into a pitying laugh. “Oh you guys can’t come, we’re already taking Jihoon and he looks like a prepubescent child.”

“Hey!” Jihoon grew heated as the rest tried to stifle their laughter.

“Seriously though,” said Jeonghan, “we can’t take freshmen to a college party, it’s already enough taking these junior idiots. I am definitely not going to be held responsible for you three while fucked up.”

“Awh, please,” Seungkwan whined, but Jeonghan wasn’t one to give into those kinds of pleading requests that easily.

“Sorry Kwannie. We’ll leave at nine.”

 

\----------

 

The high rise floated above the city. The building was thrown in the middle of bustling Seoul, and the lives of ordinary people could be observed right from his window view. Yet even as he was surrounded by a glittering metropolis of traffic and skyscrapers, he felt separated from the entire world.

The honking and chattering far down below was like a faint whisper in his ear, a reminder that life below existed. Up here in the clouds, it was quiet and pristine.

Jisoo’s parents welcomed him home with open arms, though they were called away to important meetings soon after, promising their son they would be back before dinner.

In the meanwhile, Jisoo strided through the open high rise loft alone. He hated the quiet, too used to the constant banter and commotion between all of his friends at school. Oddly, the dorms felt like more of a home than here. He brushed his hands across the starch white television stand, feeling the dust collect at his fingertips. The place was hardly used, and the minimalist design lacked character.

At the same time though, he was glad to get away. Recent nights he’d woken up drenched in sweat, panting hard, torn from another violent dream of grabbing hands and despairing pleas. 

The night it happened, he threw himself in the shower and scrubbed every inch of his body, yet a loofah wasn’t going to rid him of the horrible sensations still glued to his skin. 

He woke up alone. His status as a prefect came with the special privilege of his own single room. All Jisoo had to do was dial Jeonghan’s number, knowing the other boy was always up way too late into the night, and the other would be in his dorm before he knew it.

He didn’t like to talk about it much, but the two didn’t need words to communicate. Sometimes they’d just lay there, Jisoo absentmindedly combing his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair, and Jeonghan’s presence was enough. 

He’d thought getting away from school would help him, so he’d left early. Yet now he left more lonely and vulnerable to his wandering mind than he did before. 

“Jeonghan?” The line finally picked up and he could hear chattering on the other end. 

“Hey Joshuji, having fun in your extravagant lifestyle?” Jeonghan asked.

He rolled his eyes, even though Jeonghan couldn’t see it. “Actually, no, it’s horrible,” he replied flatly. 

“I’m sorry. If I were you, I would totally be using their hospitality against them and make them splurge on stuff for me,” Jeonghan offered. He could hear Chan’s bright laugh at something in the background.

He smiled softly. “Maybe I _will_ run their credit card into the ground. How are the boys?”

“Good? Crazy. The younger ones are begging me to go to a party tonight.”

He was glad Jeonghan shut that down because it would have been a nightmare. “One over at the college? Please be safe,” he insisted. Too many incidents and general chaos went down at those parties, and Jisoo had always tried to stay as far away as possible.

The boy on the other end laughed. “Don’t worry about me. You’re always worrying. Stop it.” 

Jisoo hummed, not one to deny it. Jeonghan spoke again after the silent pause. “How are you?”

How was he? How was he, _really?_ He managed to choke out, “My thoughts won’t leave me alone.”

“Oh Jisoo…” He could hear Jeonghan sigh. Probably because there was nothing he could possibly do. “Try to take your mind off it maybe? That’s what I do.”

“Please, when you “take your mind off” things, it almost always results in trouble,” said Jisoo.

“A little fun never hurt anyone!” Jeonghan protested.

Jisoo shook his head. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop the other’s ways. “I beg to differ. Just please be safe.”

“I will, I will! Go and take your mind off things for a few days, maybe it will help,” Jeonghan replied. So that’s what Jisoo did, grabbing his wallet and taking the elevator down into the bustling streets of Seoul.

 

\----------

 

They stood at the grimy entrance of the red-doored house, but no one made a move to open it.

It was odd seeing everyone out of their school uniforms. Jeonghan looked around noticed how refreshing the bright and stylish colors of their outfits were. It was nice for a change, especially considering they didn’t get out much.

“Why did I even agree to this,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“If it makes you feel better,” offered Jihoon, “I don’t know why I’m here either.”

“Ugh, at least _try_ to have fun!” Junhui groaned, trying to rally his uninterested troops. “Now, what are you all waiting for?” He marched over and strode through the door with an unrivaled air of confidence. He always knew how to make an entrance.

The thumping bass that thrummed through his core only intensified when Jeonghan stepped inside, and the blaring music flooded his ears. There were college students everywhere, drinking, smoking, kissing. And while Wonwoo and Jihoon were certainly dressed the part, he had to admit they looked like fish out of water in this sea of partygoers. 

“C’mon, just dance,” Jeonghan beckoned to the others and pulled Seungcheol closer, beginning to sway to the music. Wonwoo crossed his arms, looking unimpressed at the scene, but Junhui tried to coax him out of it. Jihoon just looked amused, as if he was thinking about how much better he was than everyone else there.

Somehow he succumbed to the rhythm of the music, maybe it was just natural instinct, or continual practice, or the drug creeping through his system he’d taken before they left. It seemed to stimulate his senses and enhance the swirling lights and pumping bass and crowd of sweaty people around him. Everything was overwhelming, but there was a freeing quality to the chaotic madness.

“Where are the drinks?” Seungcheol asked loudly, though he could hardly be heard over cacophony of sound.

“I’ll go find it and be right back, okay?” Jeonghan yelled back, and began to push through the crowd to reach the kitchen. The squeeze of bodies and maneuvering around incapacitated people was almost suffocating. He didn’t recognize anyone he knew, and all the strangers’ faces more or less blurred together.

He reached the kitchen, which was considerably less crowded. A boy was peering into the refrigerator and stood back up, turning around and accidentally running into him.

“Minhyuk?”

The blonde boy sheepishly smiled, but seemed intoxicated enough to just brush it off. “Sorry about that!” 

“It’s alright, what are you doing here?” Jeonghan asked, walking over to the alcohol.

“Oh you know, partying before going home tomorrow like everyone else,” he replied, propping himself up on the kitchen counter while cradling his plastic cup. He laughed. “Though I’ll say, I’d be lying if I said I was totally surprised you showed up.”

Jeonghan gasped theatrically. “You’re making me out to be some party-crazed catholic boy that lacks any substance right now.”

Of course Minhyuk knew Jeonghan well enough to roll his eyes at him. “You know I don’t mean that.”

They were mostly friends, well, friends that had slept together numerous times through various ill-decisions and drunken nights. Jeonghan cared for him, but he’d never loved him like that. There was a very low-key, unspoken mutual understanding between the two. 

“Who are you here with?” Minhyuk asked from the counter top he was beating his legs against.

“Oh you know, normal friends,” Jeonghan shrugged simply, not wanting to go too far into group politics.

“Hm.” Minhyuk nodded in thought. “You want some soju?” He jumped off the counter while jumping subjects.

“Ah yeah, but I’m not drinking tonight,” he replied.

“You’re not? Are you sick?” Minhyuk laughed, placing his hand against Jeonghan’s forehead as if to check for fever. “You know, actually, you feel really cold. Are you alright?”

He dismissed it quickly. “I’m fine. And do you really think I can’t control myself for one night?” Jeonghan took the soju from Minhyuk’s hand and shook his head in mocking disapproval.

Minhyuk stepped closer, so much so that Jeonghan had to tip his head up slightly to meet the other’s eyes. “Why would you have come here to practice self-control? Forget everything, just be free.”

Jeonghan couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, instead choosing to fumble with the top of the soju bottle. His voice grew quieter. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it anymore. Okay, Minhyukkie?” 

“What changed?” Minhyuk tilted his head questioningly.

“Nothing changed.” 

Minhyuk flashed him a look. Jeonghan shrugged. “I changed.” 

“It’s Seungcheol, isn’t it?” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Who’s that drink for then?”

He didn’t respond.

 

 

Seungcheol peered through the crowd but couldn’t see Jeonghan, and the rest had walked off to other sections of the house. He could see Junhui dancing across the room though, slowly but surely bringing Wonwoo into the fold of people.

So instead he just followed everyone else and continued dancing, blending into everyone else. He needed to drink, but then, yes, this could be fun.

He caught a girl slinking toward him from the corner of his eye, and turned around to meet her dancing in sync with his movements. At first, he didn’t pay much mind and continued dancing, but then her hips began brushing his.

She was pretty, no doubt, with hard, relentlessness eyes and stick-straight black hair that got mussed up the more she danced. The girl flashed a smile and trailed her manicured fingers up his chest. “Did you come here with anyone?” 

“Um, yeah, actually I did,” Seungcheol countered, but the strength seemed to leave his words once they slipped out.

She chucked softly and pushed the stray hair out of her face. “Well, it doesn’t look like you came with anyone,” she prodded.

“I swear—”

“Well they must be a damn fool to leave _you_ alone.”

God, his brain was screaming no, but his dick was saying something else entirely. The girl’s hands trailed lower and Seungcheol tried not to groan.

“C’mon lover boy, you want to find a room?” Her hand burned around his neck and he couldn’t possibly say no.

“I don’t even know your name,” he said in disbelief.

“Does it really even matter?”

 

 

Wonwoo hated parties. But he loved Junhui. He supposed one emotion was stronger than the other, enough to cancel the other out, so he guessed that’s why he was here.

It was entrancing to watch the older boy. Sometimes he forgot Junhui was the older one, because he was so playful and naive. Junhui pouted at him leaning against the wall. “Come on~”

“Fine,” he muttered, kicking back against the wall and going over to Junhui, who grabbed onto his hands and tried to get him to dance. He also took whatever Junhui was drinking out of his hand and swallowed it down, praying the liquid courage would kick in. If he was here, he might as well make the most out of it, right?

Junhui giggled at his awkward and lagging dance movements, but it wasn’t very fair considering Junhui was a natural who had taken several dance classes before. “Are you making fun of me?” Wonwoo accused, laughing.

“No—I mean, yes! But it’s endearing!” Junhui said as he swayed to the beat.

Then Junhui caught the fading smile on Wonwoo’s face as he gazed over Junhui’s shoulder. “What is it?” He whipped his head around to see Changkyun approaching through the crowd with a slanted smile.

Wonwoo couldn’t help frowning as the boy sidled up to Junhui, and Junhui being one to soak up attention, indulged him. Changkyun’s eyes flitted down Junhui’s slim outfit and whispered something in Junhui’s ear, causing him to look back at Wonwoo. He looked torn between the two.

Wonwoo stepping closer to the two, able to hear their conversation.

“Come with me, I know you want to,” Changkyun persuaded with a smirk. 

Junhui looked over at Wonwoo desperately. “But Wonwoo—”

Changkyun grabbed onto Junhui’s arm. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Look, I like you, but I can’t leave him here,” Junhui insisted.

“I promise you can have a much better time with me.”

Junhui jerked back, though Changkyun kept his tugging hold on his arm. “Actually, I very much like being with my extremely nerdy, clumsy, and slightly socially awkward friend here who may not get out much, but I love him very much, more than you.”

Changkyun scoffed and looked between Junhui and Wonwoo in disbelief. Junhui scowled as he tried to pull away. “Are you two fucking or something?” Changkyun asked in disbelief.

“No! God, we’re just friends!” Junhui protested. Junhui’s words seemed to echo in his mind. _Just friends._

He was never one for confrontation. But now he advanced toward Changkyun while Junhui looked on in surprise and awe. “Get your fucking hand off him and leave us the hell alone,” he said strongly, and Changkyun let go, hands raised defensively.

“Woah woah woah, Changkyun, what is going on?” a voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Lee Minhyuk. While Minhyuk was all bright smiles and fluffy hair, Changkyun brooded darkly. 

Changkyun muttered something and Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, he’s just melodramatic and actually harmless,” Minhyuk side-whispered over to him and Junhui almost comically. 

“I’m not so sure about that exactly,” Wonwoo murmured, causing Junhui to smile slightly.

“Wonwoo? Junhui?” Suddenly Jeonghan was approaching them too, looking slightly stressed and holding a bottle of soju.

Minhyuk quieted down and Wonwoo smiled. “I’m glad you’re here hyung.”

“Actually, have you seen Seungcheol?” Jeonghan asked, scanning the crowd. “I haven’t been able to find him.”

“Uh, actually I haven’t,” Wonwoo admitted. He hadn’t really keep keeping track of anyone but Junhui. “Sorry.” The others shook their heads.

“Um, I’m going to go look for him, here Minhyuk, take this.” Jeonghan forcefully handed Minhyuk the soju bottle for Seungcheol. “Just drink it, it’s yours now.”

“Okay then,” said Minhyuk, but Jeonghan had already gone off into the crowd.

The boy turned to him and Junhui. “Meet my friends,” he encouraged. “I promise they don’t bite like our little Changkyunnie.” It was amusing to watch Changkyun scowl as Minhyuk pinched his soft cheeks. 

Junhui looked over at Wonwoo questioningly, wondering if Minhyuk's invitation was a horrible idea. Wonwoo didn’t think he could stand one more moment in a pissing contest with Changkyun, but he’d never had any major reservations about Minhyuk. Wonwoo replied slowly, “How about we go and find ourselves some food and drinks and we’ll find you and meet with your friends later?” Minhyuk nodded in agreement. Honestly, he just needed a break to get himself and Junhui the hell away from Changkyun.

But Minhyuk seemed like a good guy, so they agreed to meet up.

 

 

Where the hell was he?

By now he’d given himself a tour of the whole damn house. Maybe it was the people or the mounds of trash or broken objects that made the house pretty unappealing. He cringed as he passed a guy who looked so sick in the face, that he was worried the boy would throw up right then and there. He turned around to scour the party behind him, and happened to almost run into another person. What was with his horrible reflexes?

“Hey, excuse me,” said Jeonghan, flashing the girl an angelic and hopefully convincing smile. “Have you seen a black-haired boy recently?”

The girl took the blunt out of her mouth and exhaled a large cloud of smoke in his direction. She was clearly unamused. “Well that’s specific.”

God. Jeonghan tried harder. “Okay, okay, about my height, uh, leather jacket, has a stupid smile, kinda looks like a llama?”

The girl gaped at him like he was an idiot but sighed. “I don’t think so. Try looking upstairs?” 

“Thanks for the help,” he said.

He took the girl’s advice and slowly made his way up the house’s luxurious spiral stairway which opened up into a long main hall. He was afraid of going through them all, but at this point, he didn’t have many other options.

The upstairs smelled like smoke and sex. It was an interesting juxtaposition to the lovely photo frames hung upon the wall of happy, straight-laced kids. 

The first door on the left had smoke leaking out the cracks, but he opened it anyway, revealing some random dude’s hot boxing session that he apparently interrupted. “Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed, after the kid began throwing irritated complaints.

Jesus. This was going to be harder than he thought. He hated being stuck in the middle of an unknown situation alone, and he had an itching feeling that he just couldn’t rid himself of. That day he’d used the last of his drugs that Junhui had gotten him, and the exhilarating feeling had worn of significantly. His entire body was just dying for more. He needed it, but didn’t have it.

This time he decided to knock on the next door on the right. He heard muffled noises on the other side, but after a moment a boy with gleaming, honey-like skin appeared in the doorway. Behind him and through the door, Jeonghan could make out two other boys on the bed, a tall one pinning the other down and kissing him thoroughly.

“I—was just looking for Choi Seungcheol, sorry—”

“You’re a pretty one.” The boy in the doorway grinned dangerously, not bothering to hide his surveying up-and-down gaze with his deep, feline eyes. “Care to join?”

Jeonghan laughed nervously. “Yeah no, sorry, have fun with… that,” he said, looking back over to the boys behind him.

The handsome boy let out a short tsk. “What a shame,” he said, before smiling and closing the door shut.

There was another door further down the hall, which he approached and knocked. No response. Of course, that was never enough, so he opened the door to find a guy on top of a girl and moaning. He could hear the two gasping and the boy finally collapsing onto the bed. Shit, this was so invasive. 

He’d cracked the open open and wide enough for the guy to catch him in the doorway when he flipped around. Jeonghan slammed the door shut quickly and prayed the boy hadn’t gotten a good look at him, because it was so embarrassing.

But on the other side of the door, he heard an incredulous, breathy, “Jeonghan?”

What the fuck?

He pulled the door open again and was mortified. Surprise, he’d found Seungcheol! Yeah, pussy deep in some fucking random girl. He heard a rushed “Wait!” but his brain drowned out the rest.

“Holy fucking shit,” he murmured, backing up and hitting the hallway wall. “Oh god, I can’t do this.” He could feel himself hyperventilating, his heartbeat thumping so loudly in his chest that it tuned out every other sound.

He didn’t know what to do, where to go. In some sort of frantic shock, he rushed back down the flight of stairs and into one of the less crowded living rooms. And there he spotted Minhyuk on a couch among his friends, the only visible person he knew.

 

 

He was talking to Wonho about some new show that had just aired when Jeonghan came rushing into the room out of the flowing crowd, strands of blonde flying and cheeks flushed. He looked awful, to say the least.

He paused mid-conversation to turn his attention to an absolutely mortified Jeonghan. Something ticked him off at seeing the boy so decomposed. It was Jeonghan he was talking about. The boy always presented himself as cool and measured. “Jeonghan, are you alright?”

The boy seemed out of breath. His eyes flicked over to Minhyuk but didn’t answer his question. Even from feet away, his eyes screamed desperate and pleadingly.

“Hey, aren’t you the Cheonsa of Cheongju?” Jooheon asked out of the blue, which tore Jeonghan’s attention away from Minhyuk.

“God, I fucking hate that stupid nickname,” Jeonghan muttered lowly, quiet enough to be missed. It was true. Some boys at their school had started that name, and it eventually made its way over to the college through various parties and the fact that he was easily distinguishable by his long, blonde hair. But he wasn’t just some corrupted divine being for people’s amusement, unlike how people treated him with that nickname. “And what about it?” Jeonghan spoke out loudly, challenging Jooheon eye to eye.

Jooheon wore a smug grin of surprise, pleasure almost, at Jeonghan’s bold and quickly-timed retort. Most who didn’t know Jooheon cowered in front of him and his scrutinizing gaze, but he relished in the ones brave enough to stand it. He laughed and gave Jeonghan a sided smirk. “They must be idiots, because you’re much more of a devil than a saint.”

Jeonghan grinned back at his words, but there was none of his typical bite or cunning strength in his features. Only shock and disorientation, as if his world had just been turned upside down like a maniacal snow globe.

Suddenly Jeonghan was moving toward him by an animated force. “Give me that,” Jeonghan ordered, carelessly pulling the cup of alcohol out of Minhyuk’s hands. “I need this back, I’m too sober for this.”

Minhyuk looked at him with his brows knitted in concern. “What—Jeonghan?” It was like someone had flipped a switch on the boy he'd thought he'd known.

“I’m sorry I—need to be distracted. Please. Fuck me or something,” he rambled. Jeonghan and Seungcheol never had any terms or conditions, had they? From what Jeonghan said and displayed, they weren’t ever anything official. Jeonghan was free to do whatever he wanted. But still.

On the other hand, Minhyuk’s friends looked absolutely shocked. Changkyun’s mouth fell wide open at Jeonghan’s bold proposition and Kihyun watched Minhyuk’s reaction with a scandalized smile.

Minhyuk’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Jeonghan’s hands. “ _What?_ You’re shaking, Han.” It was true. He could feel his cold, trembling, too-thin fingers within his. “C’mon, I’m taking you to lay down.”

“God Minhyuk… just let me forget. Everything,” Jeonghan mumbled against his chest. What the hell was he talking about? Something had to have happened.

He figured the best place to take him was upstairs in one of the empty spare rooms where he could lay down before he figured out who would take him home. Jeonghan slugged up the steps next to him, downing the entire cup of liquor alarmingly quickly.

“Jeonghan—” He tried to tear the nearly empty cup out of Jeonghan’s hands, but his attempts were useless. He grew increasingly worried for him. Something was obviously wrong, and Minhyuk didn’t want to leave him alone in a room at a house party while trashed. 

It was pointless in denying it. He’d always loved Jeonghan. As a friend, or even more. He knew the other boy, who’s smile beamed across the room and hair reflected like spun gold in the sun, would ever see him in the same light. But he would always take whatever he could get, anything that Jeonghan occasionally offered.

He was glad Jeonghan enjoyed being with Seungcheol. He just wanted the other boy to be happy, even if he himself couldn’t be.

He found a room at the end of the hall to place him in, moving him into the bed and under the sheets. “Please, stay here and rest for me until I can get you home and safe,” he said, to which Jeonghan gave an incoherent response into a pillow.

He slipped out of the room just as Seungcheol emerged from another down the hall, panicking. “What the hell?” Minhyuk said, not minding if his thoughts were revealed out loud.

Seungcheol turned his head sharply to face him, pale and looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Behind Seungcheol, a dark-haired girl with messed up hair and slightly off-kilter clothes emerged from the same room. 

He got the picture pretty quickly.

“Minhyuk,” Seungcheol huffed out, advancing toward him. “Where is Jeonghan?”

Minhyuk shook his head disdainfully, almost wanting to laugh at how pathetic Seungcheol looked. “Your lover boy’s in the other room, and I’d advise you to leave him alone, but I know you won’t listen to me.”

The boy had a frantic, crazed look in his eyes, desperate for some form of redemption. He didn’t understand how Seungcheol could possibly indulge in someone else when he already had the most perfect human already committed to him.

There was never going to be any real hope for himself and Jeonghan. But deep down, a tiny piece of him begged for Seungcheol not to have him either.

 

 

Much to his dismay, Jihoon looked on as Soonyoung proceeded to get higher and higher off a bright pink bong. He wasn’t sure if the bong or his hair was the more obnoxious color. A group of people had summoned them over after spotting them looking dazed and confused amidst the strange crowd. They promised to take the bright-haired boy and his little friend under their wing for the night. If Jihoon had known that meant providing them with drugs, he would have declined. He sighed in tandem with the exhale of Soonyoung’s newest hit.

At least it was only weed, right? That was what he kept telling himself. It could be worse. Worse was whatever synthetic evils he was handling and distributing.

He sat on the edge of the couch, observing the party and refusing every offer of drugs with a sharp shake of the head. The twenty-year-olds laughed at him every time he passed off the bong as quick as he was handed it. But he didn’t mind. 

Soonyoung caught his eye briefly after taking another hit, his eyes bright and red, and smiling to no end. Idiot. Jihoon wished that weed would just sedate him, but the boy actually only grew increasingly louder.

“Soonyoung, I think you need to eat,” Jihoon pleaded. Hopefully that would sober him up.

The boy nodded eagerly. “Let’s go!”

“Yes, let’s please go,” Jihoon muttered under his breath, pulling Soonyoung up from the couch to go find the kitchen with him. He didn’t understand why this house had to be so huge, and all the people inside it just make it more of a maze.

They stepped through the open door to walk into another open living room when Soonyoung stopped dead in his tracks. Jihoon nudged him to move, but then he saw what was catching Soonyoung’s eye. 

An older boy sat in the middle of another couch across the room with a small, bright peach-haired boy on his lap. Beside them were a few other boys, and in the nearby seats, Wonwoo and Junhui? The two were sitting next to a blonde boy who looked oddly jarred and disconnected from the rest of the group. For some reason, he looked familiar.

The laughing died when the boy in the center caught attention of Soonyoung. “Nobody thought to inform me that he was going to be here?” Soonyoung joked incredulously. He didn’t necessarily mean for it to be a rhetorical question, but no one answered. Junhui looked around nervously at the other boys’ reactions. He saw Wonwoo put his hand on Junhui’s leg as if to remind him not to do anything ridiculously stupid. 

Jooheon whispered something into the other boy’s ear, causing him to scowl and ruin his pretty face. “Joohoney—”

Jooheon? Wasn’t that the guy who Soonyoung was selling for?

Jooheon stood up from the couch. He wasn’t any taller than Soonyoung, but his presence seemed to loom over them. He strode toward them with an easy smile, hiding something darker underneath. “Nice to see you again, Soonyoung.”

“Uh, you too,” Soonyoung sputtered out. From the corner of his eye, Jihoon could see Junhui gripping Wonwoo’s hand tightly, and Wonwoo’s face grew pale out of anxiety for his best friend.

Nevertheless, Jooheon kept smiling, tucking his hands into his pockets. “How’s business going?”

“Everything’s fine, going smoothy,” Soonyoung gulped.

“And nothing’s gone wrong?” He cocked his head darkly. “You didn’t forget my little rule, have you?”

Soonyoung shook his head too quickly. “No no, of course not.”

Jooheon clicked his tongue dismissively. “Ah, well then why did my little birdie Changkyunnie’s calculations of your profits and products not match up for some reason? Unless Changkyun has lost his ability to count, I’m not quite sure what this problem is.” Soonyoung whipped his head over at Changkyun with a look of betrayal and shock.

“Hey,” said Changkyun, shrugging casually from his place on the couch. “I told you, from the beginning. You can’t say I didn’t warn you, I’m just doing my job.”

The two of them started to back up, their steps getting closer and closer toward the room’s exit. Soonyoung couldn’t take his eyes away from Jooheon, but Jihoon silently laced his fingers through his to provide him some extra strength. The boy couldn’t stop shaking anyway. Then he head Soonyoung’s “Oh fuck” as Jooheon stepped forward, and the place of Jihoon and Soonyoung’s steps increased. 

“You’re a dead man, Kwan,” said Jooheon. That was when he pulled out the 9mm, black metal gleaming in the changing color lights of the nearby dance floor.

Soonyoung and Jihoon turned around and ran like lightning, pushing passed annoyed partygoers. Well, they would have moved like lightning if they weren’t submerged in a throng of incapacitated college students. One girl they accidentally bumped into sloshed her drink all over the front of Jihoon’s shirt, but they didn’t have any time to stop. “Sorry!” Jihoon yelled out before turning around and pushing forward.

Behind them, Jooheon was approaching faster, gun in hand, catching up too quickly for Soonyoung’s liking. “C’mon Jihoon!” Soonyoung yelled.

“I’m sorry I have short legs!” he retorted, struggling to keep up. 

They’d barely made it out the red door when they heard a shot fire. It caused Jihoon to stop momentarily, head dizzied by the loud ringing. Soonyoung looked back desperately at the swaying boy and held onto him, pulling him forward faster than they’d gone before.

If anything, Soonyoung had definitely sobered up. Jihoon followed his lead, despite his legs pleading to fall out beneath him. When he turned his head around, he still saw Jooheon coming after them with his handgun aimed in the air. He could distantly hear him yelling through the blaring ringing in his ears.

Another shot rang out and whizzed past them. They took a sharp right turn, then a left down another street. Soonyoung seemed to deem them far enough from Jooheon to slow down a bit. Thankfully they both knew the area relatively well, and they stopped once they approached an old park playground. Jihoon had only been there maybe once or twice. The darkness only made the place seem even more barren and daunting than it did in the daylight. They sat on two swings that creaked in the wind as they swayed back and forth. 

Jihoon couldn’t help but shudder due to his bundle of nerves, the cold, breezy night air, and his still soaked shirt. The wind chill seeped down into his bones mercilessly.

Out of the blue, Soonyoung began pulling off his shirt and Jihoon scowled in disgust. “Soonyoung! What in the world are you getting naked for! Put your clothes back on,” he berated.

That made Soonyoung smile almost lewdly, but he didn’t listen. Jihoon wanted to smack that suggestive smirk off his face. “You’re shaking! After all we’ve just been through, you dying of hypothermia right now would be lame as hell,” Soonyoung said.

“Jesus, do you think this is some kind of fucking romance movie?” scoffed Jihoon. “Cause it’s not.”

“Jihoon,” he ordered, “take off your shirt already.”

“No!”

“Look, if you don’t take my shirt, I’m gonna have to force it on you.”

“Fine,” he hissed, removing his shirt and throwing on Soonyoung’s quickly. He didn’t understand how the other could sit there without a shirt on in the cold.

He wasn’t worried.

Just a little bit worried.

“I’ll be fine,” Soonyoung reassured him. Jihoon tried not to look too long at Soonyoung as he stood up and helped him out of the swing. “Let’s go home.”

 

 

“We’re going home,” declared Wonwoo, pulling Junhui up from the couch. “This is enough.” 

The crowd of people was yelling and in a frenzy after they heard gunshots go off, yet Changkyun still seemed stuck in his perpetual ease. “Don’t you think it’s a little early?”

Wonwoo stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape, nose scrunched, eyes squinted. “I don’t care, we need to get out of here.” 

“Suit yourself,” Changkyun scoffed.

Junhui felt terrified, even as he shoved himself into Wonwoo’s arms. “Wonwoo! What about Jihoon and Soonyoung! The gunshots!” He started to hyperventilate through his still somewhat-tipsy state. “We need to help them!”

Wonwoo steadied Junhui’s shoulders, and he looked into Wonwoo’s eyes. Wonwoo spoke firmly, “We can’t go after them. There is nothing we can do. Most importantly, we need to worry about ourselves. They’re going to have to be on their own for this one.”

Though it felt like the undeniable truth, Junhui refused to except it. He kept shaking his head. “No no no no no—”

“Yes, Junhui!” Wonwoo commanded. “Listen to me. First we need to get back to the dorms.”

Okay, okay, that seemed like a plan. How was Wonwoo so eerily calm? He admired him for being so brave and strong when he himself felt impossibly weak.

Junhui didn’t even look back at Changkyun before they made it out the door. 

The walk home was only about ten minutes, but it felt infinitely longer with the silence between them. Junhui felt sick and ashamed, if anything. It was he who suggested they go. He who befriended Changkyun. He who got Jihoon and Soonyoung in trouble, and for all he knew, they’d been shot and killed by those two bullets.

Wonwoo looked over at him kicking a pebble beneath his feet and tiled his head curiously. “What are you thinking about?”

There was no use lying at this point. “This is all my fault.”

“What?” Sudden understanding flickered across Wonwoo’s features. “Look, don’t blame yourself. You had no control over this.”

“Oh my god,” Junhui exclaimed. “And we just left Seungcheol and Jeonghan there too!” He had no idea where they were when they left. “I’m horrible.”

“No, you’re not,” Wonwoo disagreed. They’d made it to the open field where the dorm building laid beyond. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” He bit his lip, the nervousness swirling with the alcohol in his system. “For staying with me and getting us out of there.” Because he never could have himself.

“You’re welcome. But I wish you believed in yourself more.”

Wonwoo’s words sunk into him as they continued their walk to the dorms in silence. Maybe he was right. Sure, he acted confident as much as he could around everyone, but when it came down to it, he was just scared. Maybe that’s why after they’d gotten through Hansol and Seungkwan’s window on the first floor and up to their own hall, standing in front of Junhui’s room door, he said softly, “Don’t leave.”

Wonwoo hesitated, but agreed. It all felt parallel to a similar situation months before of Wonwoo taking care of him after another party, yet here they were in Junhui’s room, not Wonwoo’s, and he felt much more clear-headed.

And there was another key distinction. This time, Junhui really recognized Wonwoo. Someone who was always there for him, always looking after him, no matter how much Junhui strung him along. He’d never appreciated him as much as he did at that moment. 

“Come here.” He gestured for Wonwoo to join him in the bed, and Wonwoo followed cautiously. The other boy seemed to be at a loss for words as Junhui ran a hand down the side of his cheek, admiring the sharp smoothness.

“You’re beautiful, Jeon Wonwoo, and I’m sorry it took me forever to notice it.” Wonwoo’s mouth was agape, and Junhui’s guilt dug deeper into his stomach. He didn’t know if he could ever make it up to him. 

At some point in time he’d learned actions speak louder than words, so he cupped the sides of Wonwoo’s face and kissed him. Wonwoo leaned into it, surprised, but pleasantly surprised. Their lips fit perfectly, both of them going deeper until they broke apart. 

Wonwoo’s lips curled into a slight smirk. “I thought you said earlier that we were ‘just friends’?”

“I—” He was right. He’d spat those words out drunkenly and defiantly without really meaning it. He wished he could take them back and throw them away. Yet all he could retort back was, “Oh, screw you.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened at the same time he realized the implication of his own words. Suddenly Wonwoo was pulling himself over him, and they were kissing again, lips colliding and tongues slipping. He lost himself to it, relishing in the moment that felt right.

“Wait,” he paused, pulling his face away from Wonwoo’s. “I—I have to tell you, I’ve never had sex before.”

“What?”

He’d never said the words that slipped his tongue before to anyone. It felt exposing, like he was truly naked.

“You’re kidding, right,” Wonwoo joked nervously.

“No!” Junhui protested, playfully slapping his chest.

“Okay, okay, wow,” Wonwoo muttered, laying down and propping himself to look over at him, who couldn’t meet his eyes and chose to stare up at the ceiling instead. He took a deep breath to steel himself before he explained.

“I haven’t always been this confident or popular. The beginning of sophomore year I kissed the guy I like and he boasted to all of his friends that we had sex.” He gulped. “At first I was just mortified, but then I ran with it. People began to admire me. Sure I’ve given blowjobs or handjobs, which have kept the illusion going, but not ever all the way. It’s all hearsay and false claims.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed Wonwoo wouldn’t run away.

“Do you really think I care about that?” Wonwoo smiled genuinely, and Junhui opened his eyes again. They were facing so close to one another that Junhui’s breath hitched.

His eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“I just care about you, not what other people say or think.”

Junhui didn’t know what to say, so he kissed him instead. It felt right, unlike the guys he had been with before. They felt forced, necessary, somewhat dreaded. With Wonwoo, all he wanted was more.

Everything started progressing so quickly, possibly due to the rush of adrenaline in his chest that swirled around with the remnants of his inebriation. It started off light, but his fingers intertwined deeper into Wonwoo’s thick hair, as the other boy began to do the same. The kiss grew sloppier as their tongues met and hands traveled. He gasped at Wonwoo’s suddenly trailing hand on his waist slipping underneath his loose shirt, sending shivering shocks up his skin. And he didn’t need to be told twice. He was tugging off his shirt as soon as they came up for air.

It was really happening, wasn’t it? 

He could tell Wonwoo was trying to hold back, go slow, careful, because of him. But just because it was his first time doesn’t mean he was some delicate flower.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo asked, looking up at him between peppering kisses down to his collarbone. “Are you really sure?”

While trying not to roll his eyes because of his perfect kisses, he was also trying not to roll his eyes at Wonwoo’s concerns. “Oh my god, just fuck me already, Wonwoo.”

The boy didn’t object, choosing to go further. Wonwoo grinded down with his hips, and Junhui groaned out of pleasure and impatience before dialing back once he remembered where they were. His hands roamed until they were grabbing onto Wonwoo’s lean back, nails digging into his skin harder whenever Wonwoo grinded down harder.

Wonwoo paused in the middle of unbuckling his pants, causing Junhui to let out a long whine. He needed the composure-shattering sensations to continue, and Wonwoo had stopped. “Wait, do you have lube?

Junhui nearly groaned and begged for him to continue, but he knew he was right. “Why the fuck would I have that?” he hissed.

“I don’t know!” Wonwoo exclaimed.

In that moment, he was so wrapped up in his desire that none of it mattered. “Just do it anyway, I don’t need it,” he protested quickly.

That really made Wonwoo stop and shake his head. Firmly, he replied, “No, we’re doing it the right way, and I don’t care if you disagree.”

“Fine!” he muttered. It took some extreme strength to pull himself up from the bed and search through his room for a bottle. He knew he didn’t have any… but yes! It only took two attempts to find a huge bottle of lube in Soonyoung’s bottom drawer.

He turned around and proudly displayed his findings to Wonwoo, who laid on the bed looking like a beautiful, disheveled mess. “Found Soonyoung’s! I knew this slut would have it,” he joked. He threw the bottle onto the bed and crawled back over to Wonwoo, where he kissed him again fleetingly.

Wonwoo started laughing, causing Junhui to start grinning too. “What in the world are we doing?” Wonwoo shook his head jokingly.

Junhui pulled their faces closer until their foreheads touched and lips nearly met. “I have absolutely no idea. Something right,” he whispered in the small space that they’d claimed as their own, breaths so close they were colliding.

Wonwoo was giving him what no other guy had even taken into consideration. Putting him first, going slow, making sure Junhui had what he deserved. He’d never felt anything like it.

It was messy, it was confusing, it was embarrassing, it was perfect.

 

 

Seungcheol pushed through the last door on the hall to find Jeonghan swallowing down the rest of a Solo cup as tears flowed freely down his face.

Jeonghan quickly turned around to face him as the door opened, and his face grew so angry that Seungcheol questioned whether he should have even come at all.

“Jeongh—” he began, but Jeonghan cut him off as quickly as Seungcheol started.

“You fucking asshole!” Jeonghan exclaimed, pulling himself out of the bed. Seungcheol shut the door behind him subtly so that hopefully the rest of the hall wouldn’t hear the nasty argument that was bound to ensue. 

He wanted to deny it, but he knew Jeonghan was right. He couldn’t even explain his actions, it was like his body was acting on its own and his brain had been disconnected and unplugged. Yes, he’d had sex with that girl, and honestly, he didn’t know if he would take it back if he had the choice. 

Jeonghan looked at him with the devil in his eyes. “How could you do something like this?”

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol offered as a lame excuse.

“You’re sorry? You’re _sorry_?” Jeonghan mocked, edging closer to where Seungcheol stood at the door. “I think you’re fucking sorry that you got caught.”

“Actually, you know what?” Seungcheol bit back. Something in him snapped and his anger was building like a rushing high tide. “How can you attack me when you go and fuck Minhyuk all the time? So it’s okay if you go screw around, but God forbid _I_ go out and do it too?”

He could see Jeonghan’s hands ball into fists and him bite his bottom lip in seething restraint. “This is different.”

“How is this different!” Seungcheol laughed out loud incredulously. Jeonghan’s eyes widened slightly at the other boy’s expressive outburst. “You’re insane, Jeonghan. Why don’t you take some actual accountability in your life for once?”

He saw Jeonghan gulp in fear at this side of Seungcheol, the violent one that was never revealed. The boy grabbed the remaining alcohol in his cup and shot it back to steel his nerves, but Seungcheol just shook his head. More and more, Jeonghan relied heavily on whatever alcohol he could find. It was somewhat sad to Seungcheol, as he had watched Jeonghan grow up over several years. He wasn’t always like that. Things used to be better, happier, and much less complicated.

“Oh, stop projecting onto me,” Jeonghan hissed in his face.

“Maybe if you weren’t actually afraid of commitment, we’d be together and not fucking other people,” said Seungcheol.

Jeonghan gritted his teeth. “Fuck. You.”

They were so close, nearly touching. Seungcheol could feel the cold wooden door on his back. Then his body was automatically taking over again, flipping their positions so that Jeonghan was pressed up against the door with Seungcheol’s hand on the back of his waist. Jeonghan’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes widened at Seungcheol. His eyes which were previously sparked with hate amalgamated with lust into some twisted form of passion.

He didn’t know who moved first, but they met in the middle, hands flying through each other’s hair. Jeonghan let out a slight whine when Seungcheol pulled on his blonde hair, and Seungcheol cut him off by kissing him deeply.

"I hate you," Jeonghan breathed out after their kiss broke.

Seungcheol laughed at that. "Sure you do."

Jeonghan’s grip around the nape of his neck grew tighter. Seungcheol began kissing down his jaw and Jeonghan’s head lulled back against the door with a thud, showing off the open expanse of his neck. His breath hitched once Seungcheol kissed a sensitive spot on his collar, and then, a sharp bang of something like a gunshot broke out from somewhere below.

He could hear a loud ruckus downstairs, and Seungcheol stopped what they were doing. “Seungcheol,” he whined out.

Seungcheol replied, “Something’s happened downstairs!” He wasn’t afraid to admit he was slightly terrified.

“I don’t care, I need you,” Jeonghan slurred, pressing his body up against Seungcheol’s dangerously. And against all better, clearer judgements, he couldn’t deny him. Somehow, he was able to tune out everything else but Jeonghan.

He hoisted Jeonghan up around his waist and winced at the weight. Thankfully it was a not-too-distant shuffle to the edge of the bed which Jeonghan fell back onto. They started kissing again, almost like this was the only solution to their fighting, this was the way they could avoid their problems and forget everything. They alternated between harsh and soft, harsh and soft, as if they were trying to act mad at each other but kept on forgetting.

Desperately, they tried to multitask and pull off Jeonghan’s shirt while not breaking their kiss. His shirt got half torn in the process and eventually they both gave up, instead choosing to press their mouths against one another’s harsher. Jeonghan’s muffled moans and haphazardly clawing the back of his shoulders egged Seungcheol on. Jeonghan was nearly begging for him to hurry up already. It was entertaining to see just how needy Jeonghan could get.

Their tongues collided sloppily and Seungcheol was almost breathless, running on exhilaration rather than air. He pinned Jeonghan’s hands above him when the boy started to choke.

“Jeonghan?” He pulled away quickly, gripping the sides of Jeonghan’s cheeks while the boy gasped for air. His pupils had constricted to pinpoints. “Jeonghan!”

Usually Seungcheol was the one everyone turned to in dire situations, he was the leader, he was the clear headed one, but now he was panicking and his heart pounding out of his chest. 

The skin underneath his hands began to grow pale and clammy, and even his lips and fingernails had taken on an unnatural blue hue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, as Jeonghan continued to make these horrific gurgling sounds.

But he wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up the youngest of several older brothers who involved themselves into lots of trouble. He’d also grown up with wealthy but uninvolved parents, who only got involved when it was too late. That was why they’d sent him to Cheongju. The youngest son still had a chance.

He remembered in middle school doing his math homework while watching his older brothers sort drugs on the family’s kitchen table. His brothers taught him how to sling drugs too. He also observed in silence his oldest brother become addicted. Finally, he witnessed his brother have an opioid overdose, and it was exactly like this.

Jeonghan went unconscious, and Seungcheol scrambled to find his slowing, erratic pulse. _No,_ this couldn’t be it. _No,_ Jeonghan was not dying in the spare bedroom of a random college party. Frantically, he dug through Jeonghan’s pockets to find his phone, but ended up finding a small box.

It was naloxone. That idiot. A genius idiot, but an idiot all the same. Did he really carry it around with him, knowing he could die? His mind was still reeling from the fact that Jeonghan was taking some heavy opioids.

He’d seen it with his oldest brother from what felt like yesterday. Still, his hands trembled as he ripped off the package, uncapped the syringe, and tried to shakily stick the syringe in the vial.

Blaring sirens tore his focus away from the syringe. His ears were overwhelmed with the noises of police cars and the red and blue flashing lights that painted the light of the room through the windows. Of course. Someone had to have called the police after those gunshots. He was sure everyone below was scrambling for their lives.

Either they could hide, or Jeonghan could be definitely arrested for illegal drug charges. Likely so could Seungcheol for drug conspiracy due to his acknowledgement of Soonyoung’s unconventional little “business”. He let out a long and heavy string of curses as he flung open the closet and dragged Jeonghan’s body inside it with him, propping the boy in between his legs to Seungcheol’s chest. Maybe they had a slight chance of going undiscovered if he kept dead still and quiet. Seungcheol’s shallow breathing was the only sound besides the distant sirens, making him feel truly hopeless and utterly alone.

The only light was the moon and police sirens that streamed through the tiny openings in the slats of the folding closet door. He could barely see the syringe in his hand, so he prayed he’d gotten all the air out before he stabbed him in what was hopefully the right part of the leg.

“No no no no no _no_ Hannie, if you die on me right now, I’ll fucking murder you in the afterlife,” he threatened pathetically to the younger, who couldn’t even hear his pleading. Without realizing he’d been crying, he could feel the tears drip down his cheeks onto Jeonghan’s tangled hair, as he begged for something to happen.

At that moment, despite the pale, limp boy in his arms, Seungcheol felt like he was the one truly dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah gotta love writing everyone totally out of character. This is also the most unrealistic fic ever lets be honest.
> 
> We all know who the honey skin boy is right(?), lol
> 
> If you take away anything from this dumb crazy fic, I hope that its that consent is very important and please say no to drugs (and if you do hard drugs anyway, don't drink alcohol at the same time unless you plan on dying)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment! They definitely make my day


	9. Angry and in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is either gone or missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I haven’t updated in a while! It’s summer and I’ve been on vacations and also I’m been having some bad writers block. This chapter isn’t exactly what I wanted but I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> Also you don't know monsta x well btw, the guy in the left polaroid is minhyuk...

 

Have you ever been so angry and so in love with someone at the same time?

Daylight broke, and Seungcheol had hardly believed it, thought the bright sky was lying to him because he thought that night would last for an eternity.

He felt like his body had split and shattered into pieces as Jeonghan suddenly shuddered and choked back into consciousness, breathing heavily and mind still hazy. 

One piece of him was so _angry,_ angrier than he’d ever been before. Angry at Jeonghan for letting this happen to him. Angry at himself for not noticing, not seeing what was happening to Jeonghan before he hit rock bottom. This, _this_ , was rock bottom.

Another side of him was devastatingly sad. An extreme grief washed over him as he sat in that closet, and taking Jeonghan back home later, denying what he could not possibly accept as reality. Watching the closest person to him, someone who truly understood him, stuck by his side, laughed at his poorly tasted jokes, and attended every single one of his football games, cheering ridiculously in the front stands of the sidelines whether rain or sun or snow, dying. Lips and nails turning bluer and bluer by the minute, and Seungcheol felt bluer than he ever had before.

The last part of him felt love. A sudden need to do something, save him, help him, stop the person he loved from dying. But he had no idea what to do. All he knew was that it hurt to see him like that. 

Jeonghan wasn’t all there that night after the shot of naloxone, when the two were huddled in that tiny closet and Seungcheol was holding his breath so hard he thought he’d pass out too. He could hear the sirens, running of students, and the harsh footsteps of officers making their way through the house and up, up, up the stairs. He’d squeezed his eyes shut and clamped a hand over Jeonghan’s mouth and silently begged the other to not make a sound. If he did, the police would be dragging their asses to the station and Seungcheol couldn’t possibly explain why his boarding school boyfriend was recovering from an illegal drug overdose. He heard a man opening the door, stepping into the room and pausing to briefly flash his light around the room. Ten whole seconds of Seungcheol not taking a single breath and, “Clear!”

He nearly sobbed in relief at that. Eventually he’d brought Jeonghan back to the dorm, and they’d collapsed on his bed without discussing a single thing before passing out from exhaustion.

“I’m leaving,” Jeonghan announced, shoving his things into a carry-on bag on his bed. He moved with such fervor between the closet and the bed that you wouldn’t have expected him to have been nearly dead only hours before.

“Excuse me?” Seungcheol scoffed, getting up off of his own bed. “No you’re not.”

“Watch me.”

Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair. Arguing with Yoon Jeonghan was like trying to battle a mountain of concrete.

“Where is my hairbrush?” Jeonghan asked, slightly pouting, with his hands on his hips.

Seungcheol grabbed the purple hairbrush that had dropped in between the bed and the bedside table the other day and shook it. “Right here.”

“Give me that,” Jeonghan tsked, snatching the comb out of his hand. “Don’t touch my shit.”

“Wha—I—”

“Now, do you think its any colder in Seoul?” Jeonghan asked, absentmindedly mulling through his jackets and scarves.

Seungcheol plopped back down onto his bed and thought that maybe if he closed his eyes, he could open them and find that all of this wasn’t happening. “Don’t leave. This is insanity.”

“I think I like the blue scarf better, but what do you think?”

“Stop this.”

“The blue one seems to go with my jacket better—”

“Why do you feel the need to do this? Why are you running away? You really want to go back to your mother again?” He couldn’t help the splurge of questions that fell out of his mouth without consideration.

Jeonghan paused at that, and Seungcheol caught a flicker of something in his eyes. Pain? Regret? Frustration? Exhaustion?

“I wouldn’t be going back for the holiday if it wasn’t for my sister.”

Ah, yes, Yoon Haewon, the only one in the world that humanized Jeonghan and turned him into a completely selfless human being. What power.

If only he possessed it too.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea. You almost died, and now you’re leaving with no one to watch out for you, when you could just take more drugs and relapse.” Last time Jeonghan had gone home to his parents, it’d ended up with him sobbing over the phone for Seungcheol to pick him up. And he did, no questions asked on the silent ride back. Sometimes it irked him that Jeonghan barely told him anything. He felt like he opened up his rib cage, poured his heart on a platter, and offered every part of himself to Jeonghan, yet that vulnerability and exposure was never reciprocated.

“Jesus,” Jeonghan groaned, rolling his eyes as he chucked a pair of what looked to be Seungcheol’s socks in his bag. “Stop with the savior shit, Cheol.”

“Excuse me?” Seungcheol’s face heated as he tried to stop himself from shooting something nasty back. “You know what? I saved your life. You’d be fucking dead in your own vomit if it wasn’t for me!”

Jeonghan looked up with incredulous eyes that seemed to stare deep into his soul. “Well maybe I would have been fine if you hadn’t cheated on me!”

That.

It’d been overshadowed by Jeonghan’s overdose, but it lurked in the dark, waiting to rear its ugly head.

Yet he didn’t want to face it. “Don’t make this my fault. I didn’t make you drink while on drugs, and don’t even blame me for your apparent addiction. If anything, it would have happened sooner or later,” said Seungcheol.

The other boy didn’t turn around to face him, instead shoving the rest of his things into his bag. He could see his shoulders shaking and he desperately wanted to get up and calm him down, but it’d only make things even worse. Jeonghan shook his head and muttered, “You’re pathetic, Seungcheol.”

He gulped hard, knowing he was right. He’d torn the nonexistent thread that bound them together, and it hurt all the same. But he felt lost in the dark, trying to navigate his way between breaking everything that religion had taught him by loving Jeonghan and living a normal life and doing what people expected of him. For so long they dreamed of a future after school where they’d disregard everything, but recently he’d been coming to the conclusion that it was all a lie they’d been telling themselves to keep going. Nothing was ever going to change. They would never end up together because of their school and their families and happenstance of where they lived, and they were fooling themselves if they thought they could. And he could tell Jeonghan was beginning to realize it too.

Jeonghan stood in the doorway with his stuffed bag slung over his shoulder and strap gripped too tight. Somehow he still looked half-dead, thin greasy hair pushed back, dark circles on his normally bright face, and eyes that didn’t hold the same liveliness he used to see every day. It was like something in him changed after that night, something changed between them, and it was something neither of them could take back.

A huffed “goodbye” was what Jeonghan left with, and even though he was only leaving for a day or two, it didn’t feel that way. Honestly, he was scared of what would happen when he came back.

And somehow, despite a million pleas and protests and confessions that he wanted to drop out into the open, all that he managed to communicate was a weak nod, making him look like the biggest fool. If this was a romance movie, he’d run out and chase him and then they’d have the grandest, most conciliatory kiss to make up for everything they’d been through.

But it wasn’t. Jeonghan had overdosed. Seungcheol had cheated. A kiss wouldn’t make up for it and he didn’t think anything ever would.

 

 

It was odd, waking up in the same position he had months ago, but the circumstances were completely different. They still laid in a tangle of limbs in a mess of sheets, but in Junhui’s bed, not his. Beyond that, he wasn’t suffering that hollowing feeling in his chest when he looked over at Junhui. What once felt vastly unattainable was now right in his arms, literally.

Junhui laid on his chest with his arm and leg thrown over Wonwoo, making him unbearably hot. It was like an adorable cat where no matter how uncomfortable the position, there was absolutely no getting up. The boy’s face was facing his from the adjoining pillow, chestnut hair slowly rippling down his cheeks and across his eyes as he slightly stirred.

His mouth was barely open in his sleep and drool was threatening to fall down his chin and onto his pillow, but Wonwoo didn’t mind. It was so normal. Completely, pathetically normal, and Wonwoo liked normal. Normal was what he needed after terrifying gunshots and creepy guys and obnoxious parties.

So he laid there, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as the sun rose and Junhui dozed. Soon there was stretching and shifting as Junhui came to, rubbing his eyes and muttering something unintelligible. 

“Mmhm… Wonwoo?” he drawled, eyes straining at the basking light. As he turned over in the bed, the sheets pulled at his torso and he realized he was only in his boxers. He looked up and down at Wonwoo and suddenly his eyes shot open. “Wonwoo, why are we naked?”

He tore his gaze from his phone to find Junhui looking horrified as he sat up, which only caused the covers to fall further.

“Uh… Do you not remember what happened?” Wonwoo’s face blanched. He couldn’t have forgotten. Not _again_. He was having flashbacks to the last time they’d ended up in bed together. 

“Oh my god… Did we have sex?” he asked incredulously, looking down at himself, at Wonwoo, and at the abandoned clothes scattered on his floor.

Wonwoo swallowed hard. 

Junhui giggled at his expression. “I’m just messing with you,” he teased. “I mean, how could I possibly _forget_.”

Finally the air was flooding back into his lungs and he could breathe again. He slumped back down against the pillow and ran his hands over his face. “Why did you have to do that to me, Junnie.”

The boy leaned forward over Wonwoo and grinned as he pulled Wonwoo’s hands away. Wonwoo stared up at him, only inches away, his hair falling down into his face again. Without a word, he was leaning forward and Junhui met Wonwoo’s lips with his own in a fleeting kiss of faint alcohol and morning breath.

“Brush your teeth,” Wonwoo grumbled with a faint smile on his lips.

“Excuse me?” Junhui gasped and threw his pillow and Wonwoo’s face.

“You heard me,” laughed Wonwoo, causing Junhui to get on top of Wonwoo and playfully tackle him by assessing all of his ticklish weak points.

“Oh my—stop!” Wonwoo was protesting in between squirming and deep breaths, though Junhui was relentless. The older one just laughed like a psycho as he suffered. Eventually he slowed down though, and the position they were in was made glaringly obvious.

He felt Junhui pick up both his hands and thread his fingers through his from where he straddled his chest, and the mood began to sober up.

“Do you regret it?” Wonwoo asked as he wiggled his fingers inbetween Junhui’s.

“No.”

“So… What do we do now?”

Junhui pondered for a moment, looking off into the crumpled sheets. “I don’t know.”

“Do we tell the others?”

Junhui shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Half of their friends were out of school, and most of the other half they had no idea what happened to.

He crawled back under the covers beside Wonwoo, tracing his slim fingers in little designs on his chest. “I don’t know what is going to happen next, maybe I’m scared, but I’m just glad that it was with you.”

“Me too.”

 

 

Despite the absurd amount of time it took for them to finally get out of bed and dressed and everything, they made their way down to the dining hall at their normal spot where they expected seven others. They only saw three.

The little freshman seemed smaller at the usually filled, large table by themselves. Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan were sitting and slurping their breakfast tteokguk, which they really should have been eating with their respective families during the New Year’s Day. Was this the table of kids whose parents no longer wanted them? Or the table of kids who were too daunted to face them? He guessed he’d have to join them. His parents hadn’t bothered to reach out, and he doubted Junhui’s father would either.

The kids smiled as they sat themselves down, but the sipping of soup did a pitiful job at hiding the incredible silence. 

Wonwoo shattered it. “Where is everyone?” 

Hansol looked up with him with furrowed brows and thought for a moment, then shrugged. “No one’s been here. Just us.”

“Maybe if you guys actually stop treating us like babies and told us things, we might know,” Chan added begrudgingly under his breath.

Junhui pursed his lips at that, but made no move to comment.

He heard shuffled footsteps before he turned around and saw Seungcheol, looking like a hot mess with his unkempt hair and baggy, slipping clothes. They all seemed to be watching very quietly, too quietly, as he took a seat beside Wonwoo and let out a big huff.

“…Hyung?” Seungkwan prodded as he sipped his drink and side-eyed Seungcheol to gauge the boy’s reaction.

“What, Seungkwan?” he snapped, causing younger to shudder slightly.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

With their backs to the wall of the dining hall, Wonwoo had been observing the too-empty room of students. Then he saw a figure approaching their table, and he elbowed Seungcheol hard. Before Seungcheol could spit out some sort of harsh comment or obscenity, he looked up and stared into the stony face of Lee Minhyuk.

“I need to talk to you,” the blonde boy stated, standing up straight with his shoulders back and hands clenched at his sides.

Seungcheol didn’t bother to look up at the other, and took more fascination in the floating rice cakes in Wonwoo’s soup. “Well guess what? I don’t want to talk to you.”

Minhyuk stepped closer. “I don’t care what you want. I need to talk to you,” he repeated.

“Seungcheol-hyung, I think it’s really important, so maybe you should go…” Hansol butted in with a low whisper, to which Seungcheol looked up and glared at the oblivious kid.

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling himself up from the bench and joining Minhyuk a few tables away. They engaged in some sort of heated, low conversation which the freshmen just sat back and speculated about it like a scandalous k-drama episode.

 

 

He never thought he’d be having Lee Minhyuk beg in front of him, never thought he would even have to talk to him before last night, but circumstances and what had to be some sort of cruel fate had tied them together too close for his liking.

“Please, tell me if Jeonghan is alright,” Minhyuk asked, to which Seungcheol responded with a large sigh. 

“He’s fine.”

“ _Fine?_ What is _fine_ supposed to mean?” Minhyuk prodded, desperate for any semblance of an answer.

Seungcheol did his best to loosen his grip on the silverware hed been holding onto at the table. The poor spoon was bending pitifully and begging for him to stop. “What, Minhyuk, it’s not like you’re Jeonghan’s boyfriend.”

Minhyuk leaned forward and raised his voice in an effort to grab his attention. “Maybe not, but I treat him a hell of a lot better than you do.” Seungcheol looked up at scoffed at the kid who curse words totally didn’t suit him. He was dead serious, but he still looked like a doe-eyed pretty boy that could do no harm. Maybe that’s why Jeonghan was so fascinated with him. He was too sweet and _good_ and everything the two of them weren’t but desperately wanted. 

Seungcheol just shook his head. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about, Minhyuk, so just shut up. I don’t know who you think Jeonghan is, but he’s made every single one of his stupid decisions on his own.”

“Well… Please let me talk to him anyway,” Minhyuk pleaded, giving him such wide, shining puppy eyes that could have rivaled Mingyu’s.

Seungcheol stood up, letting the wooden chair loudly scrape against the old paneled floor. He took a look at Lee Minhyuk and gritted his teeth. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, _he’s gone?_ ” He heard Minhyuk scampering up from his seat behind him in desperation. 

“Somewhere off in Seoul,” he breezed, waving his hand in some uncaring gesture. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less where.” That was how he walked away from the poor, gaping boy.

But that wasn’t quite the truth. Jeonghan was on his way home to Seoul, and Seungcheol cared too much. And caring only made him angrier at absolutely anything and everything. 

 

 

Why was it, that when he reached his happiness experience in years, the world decided to ruin his cheerful streak and topple everything down around him?

Like seriously. He couldn’t believe it’d taken possible gun fatalities, a whole lot of liquid courage, and a brutally honest confession to realize he’d been blind to Wonwoo for so many years. Of course, he’d always known his friend with a perfectly cut jawline and high cheekbones was attractive, and kind, and smart, and funny… Okay, maybe he was an idiot.

Yes, he’d played around with Wonwoo because that was what he did with _everyone_. Everyone knew it never meant anything, it was just Wen Junhui’s flirtatious personality. He hadn’t accounted for the damage he’d done to the other because of it.

But right when he’d finally reached the same page, everything else conveniently happened to go to shit. The younger kids looked annoyed and hurt that they were never included, Seungcheol looked like he was about to lose his mind from across the room with Minhyuk, something _bad_ had clearly happened to Jeonghan judging by the conversation between Seungcheol and Minhyuk, and Soonyoung and Jihoon…

“Wonwoo!” He rushed out in the middle of their quiet breakfast, “Where is Soonyoung and Jihoon?”

Wonwoo immediately turned his head around to look at him, confused for a moment. “Probably back in my…” His eyes widened.

When they’d woken up that morning in Junhui and Soonyoung’s room, it was clear it had only been them that night. They’d gotten back extremely late, and the covers on Soonyoung’s messy bed laid in the same mussed up array that morning as it’d been when they’d gotten there. Before going to eat breakfast, they’d made their way down the hall to Wonwoo’s room so he could change into some fresh clothes for the day. Jihoon and Soonyoung were nowhere to be seen.

“Oh my god, what if they _died_ ”

Wonwoo looked horrified at that. “Junhui, did you really have to go there right now?”

“What!” Junhui defended, shoulders raised. “They haven’t been in their rooms, they haven’t been seen by anyone here, last time we knew where they were we were hearing fucking _gunshots_ meant for them.”

Maybe he regretted saying that all at once, because Wonwoo looked threateningly sickly pale. “Wonwoo—”

He would have thought Wonwoo was frozen if it wasn’t for his dry gulp, and Junhui knew his horrible imagination was taking over the situation. “I don’t know what to do,” he replied, panic evident in his voice.

Before realizing, he was fishing his phone out of his jean pocket and dialing Soonyoung as fast as his trembling fingers could. He tried calming himself down, if not for him, but for Hansol, Seungkwan, and Chan, their silent observers who looked utterly terrified and utterly helpless. Easier said than done.

Ring upon ring. Junhui pleaded internally for Soonyoung to please just pick up, just this once. He’d promise he would start responding to all of Soonyoung’s calls from then on if he just answered this one call.

“Hello?”

Junhui took a deep breath once he knew Soonyoung was on the other line and _alive_.

“Soonyoung, where are you? Where is Jihoon?”

“Junhui…”

Something didn’t sound right, he just knew without reason. The slight tremble in Soonyoung’s voice, the minute shake. 

“Soonyoung, please say something.”

A brief pause. “I need you to come here right now.”

 

 

If he’d thought their awkward breakfast was horrible, the car ride to the hospital was so much worse.

They’d gotten the address, and then, in a rush, managed to leave the school and all pile into Seungcheol’s old, beat up car. He didn’t know why Chan was in the passenger seat, but Junhui was too out of it to object before piling into the back with Wonwoo, Hansol, and Seungkwan. As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough, being crushed in between the side of the car door and Wonwoo didn’t make him feel any better.

He sat silent in the back, watching Seungcheol’s nearly white knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel and taking a sharp left turn, causing them all to jerk to the side. He didn’t blame him for being so nervous though.

It was too terrifying to say anything since nobody else was, except for the animated voice on Seungcheol’s navigation. So he faced the window instead, watching the flash of buildings and shops and pedestrians being happy and all his brain kept recircuiting to was Soonyoung and Jihoon.

Fingers locked solidly on top of his and he realized it was Wonwoo beside him, offering some sort of reassurement, even if he couldn’t say exactly what he wanted to at the moment. Still, Junhui fretted anyway.

“Hey, stop biting your lip,” Wonwoo said softly, reaching out to touch it but pulling his hand away before he could. “There’s nothing we can do, and you shouldn’t worry about things you can’t control.”

Junhui gulped and nodded quickly, probably too quickly and unnatural. He caught Seungkwan’s knowing eyes from the other side of the car, his gaze flicking between the two of them. Junhui swallowed hard and broke eye contact to look back out the window instead. The kid was more observant than he let people catch on, and too much of a gossip for his own good. Seungcheol seemed to have glanced at the back seat through the rear view mirror, but if he thought anything of it, he didn’t say.

Eventually Seungcheol parked with a sudden lurch, and all the kids poured out of the too-small car and rushed inside. After given Jihoon’s name, the lady at the front desk explained that only two were allowed to see him at a time, and Jihoon’s friend Kwon Soonyoung already accounted for one.

For some reason everyone’s gazes shifted over to Seungcheol as the eldest. Junhui wasn’t much younger than him, but there was a large divide between his shaky self and their eerily composed hyung. So Seungcheol went forward, as Junhui sat in a scratchy, multicolored waiting room chair and tried to control his breathing.

 

 

The last time he’d stepped foot in a hospital was his brother’s overdose.

The peeling gray walls and colored tile patterns and friendly nurses made all the blood drain from his face, and he had to catch his breath against the room number of Jihoon’s supposed room number.

Tentatively, he pulled open the door and crept in to find Jihoon laying in a hospital bed and Soonyoung sitting in a chair pulled up in front of his bed. Soonyoung perked up and lifted his head at the noise, half-smiling at Seungcheol when he realized who it was. It was the most pitiful, upset smile he’d ever seen. The tear tracks and puffiness of his face made it obvious he’d been crying earlier.

Seungcheol rushed over to the bed to look at Jihoon, and Soonyoung softly mentioned that he was just sleeping. He felt a tight hurt in his chest looking at Jihoon, who was once his closest friend. Somehow they’d drifted apart, and Seungcheol couldn’t help but think what a shame it would have been if he was dead, without Seungcheol having said everything he needed to and not being involved enough in Jihoon’s life.

The small boy looked pale with bags under his eyes, and Seungcheol shuddered at all the tubes hooking him up to fluids and a soft beeping machine. He couldn’t see the rest of his body underneath the blanket, but otherwise, he seemed okay.

“What happened?” Seungcheol hissed, turning his attention back to Soonyoung.

“Seungcheol—” Soonyoung started slowly, but Seungcheol was tired of the bullshit.

He shouldn’t have been so _angry_ , but he couldn’t help himself. He was standing in front of his old friend, looking half dead in a crinkled hospital gown, and selfishly, all he could think was, _it could have been Jeonghan._

It could have so easily been him and Jeonghan in this hospital room after last night. Somehow, they’d escaped, but here was his best friend who hadn’t shared the same lucky fate.

“What happened!” Seungcheol repeated, louder and more forceful.

“I—Jihoon—Last night, we were on our way home, and we were climbing up to our room, I made it up and Jihoon—Jihoon slipped,” Soonyoung sputtered, voice growing meeker by the second.

Seungcheol cursed and pinched his nose, trying to not shake in anger and pent up frustration. He knew it wasn’t really Soonyoung’s fault, it’s not like he’d pushed the other boy to fall two stories, but he spat out, “How could you?” 

Soonyoung’s eyebrows shuddered and it looked like tears were threatening to spill. “I’m sorry, God I didn’t mean to, it was just an accident, I’m just as upset as you—”

“Oh, you know what else was ‘just an accident?’” Seungcheol snapped, and he knew there was no stopping himself now. “Jeonghan almost dying last night because of _you_.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the new information. “Me?” he stammered, “I didn’t even see Jeonghan at that party, I swear.”

“He overdosed on _your_ drugs, Soonyoung.”

“What?”

“I don’t even want to know why Jooheon thought it was a good idea to give you fentanyl, but Jeonghan almost died because of it.”

Soonyoung was shrinking back and gripping onto the plastic rail of Jihoon’s hospital bed. “I never gave him any of that, I don’t know how he got his hands on it, believe me.”

Seungcheol scoffed and gritted his teeth tightly. “I don’t think that’s what matters here at this point.”

Soonyoung cowered like a deer caught in the headlights. “I didn’t mean for this to happen…”

“Well, Soonyoung, guess what?” Seungcheol spoke slowly, voice growing louder which each word. “It happened, all of _this_ happened!” he yelled, gesturing wildly to Jihoon’s sleeping form.

“I can’t believe you almost killed Jeonghan. Almost killed Jihoon. What else are you good for besides killing your friends?”

His small rant somehow managed to turn Soonyoung mute for a long moment. Seungcheol saw a shining gleam, and not much longer a stray tear rubbing down the other’s soft, crumpling face. “Fuck you,” he muttered lowly, head pointed down at his shoes. 

“Excuse me?” Seungcheol asked in a half-whisper.

Soonyoung finally looked up at him. “Fuck you. You have no idea what I’m going through. Why have you been the biggest bitch recently?” Soonyoung spat. “Let me guess, another ridiculous lovers quarrel?”

“Can everyone just stop talking about Yoon fucking Jeonghan!” Seungcheol yelled, throwing his hands up in utter frustration and exhaustion. “I’ve had it, Soonyoung. I’m tired of everyone nearly dying because of you! I’m going to go back to the school and tell them everything you’ve been doing.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened like fine china saucers and his mouth hung almost comedically open. It made him look so completely young to Seungcheol, revealing the little boy messing around with things much too dangerous for him. “No… Hyung. You can’t do this.”

It’s not like he was trying to intentionally cause the boy to suffer. But he would rather die than have anyone else suffer too. Jeonghan was bad, Jihoon was like salt in the previous night’s wound, and he didn’t want to know who’d be next. As much as he hated it, it needed to be put to an end, and Soonyoung needed to learn. So Seungcheol was going to do something about it. He grimaced. “Watch me.”

“No! Stop it!” Soonyoung yelled back at him as Seungcheol turned away and made his way to the door. Soonyoung was about to chase after him when a young nurse ripped the door open with an enraged expression.

“The entire wing of patients can hear you two kids screaming! Get out, get out!” The nurse shouted. “Both of you, get out of here!”

The two grumbled their retorts and made their way back down to the lobby by a very silent, brooding elevator ride. They walked down to the waiting room area and nearly stopped in their tracks at who else was there.

The other boys who sat in the sofas with white knuckled death grips rushed forward once they saw the two, desperate for any information about Jihoon. They begged Soonyoung to tell them what he knew, but he was at a loss for words as he stared straight ahead into the eyes of Father Woosung.

Father Woosung stepped forward, wearing his perpetual frown. Seeing him made Seungcheol frown too, as all he could think of was _Jisoo_. Woosung clicked his tongue as he looked pointedly at Soonyoung in particular. “Well, what a pleasant surprise. Why is it when something horrible happens, it is always you despicable children.”

None of them had any good answers for him, so they all remained silent and braced themselves for the surely oncoming punishment. 

“Don’t you think your little fun games have gone far enough?” Woosung hissed. “I have a student sent to the hospital in the middle of the night! I need to know what you were doing breaking curfew.”

Seungcheol exchanged a look with Soonyoung, and he could feel the other boy screaming at him not to say anything. 

He turned back around to the administrator and spoke out, “Father Woosung?”

The man turned to stare at him with a raised brow, waiting for Seungcheol’s mystery words. “Yes?”

He gulped. “I’ll tell you what happened.” He didn’t need to look over to know that Soonyoung probably wanted to kill him.

The Father’s eyes lit up at that, certainly not expecting it. “Go on, Choi.”

“So there was a party…”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to drop a comment if you enjoyed it! I always love reading them.


End file.
